Stories Told and Untold
by Liam2
Summary: Two years after his dismissal from the Justice League, Diana recruits the newly reinstated Batman to solve the case of a murdered Themysciran ambassador. But what new secrets is The Dark Knight hiding and how will it affect his working relationship with the League and his personal relationship with Diana? Most importantly, why is the normally brooding Batman suddenly so...happy?
1. The Future is Prologue

Hello, boys and girls. I got such a wonderful response to "One Night in Gotham" and "Protocol Ten" that it encouraged me to give this story a shot. So, allow me to explain what's the what.

This story, like my others, follows the DC Animated Continuity. It also takes place post "Destroyer" and "Return of the Joker". As such, I'm striving to remain faithful to the established continuity of the animated universe. That said, it's also obviously AU. Why? Well, Batman Beyond is part of the DCAU.

This story contains a murder mystery. But that's hardly the focal point of the story. Rather, it's the story of Batman on his continued journey, on a road divergent to that explored in Batman Beyond. And yes, I'll also explore his relationship with Wonder Woman (We gotta keep the spirit alive, folks, regardless of what Geoff Johns is up to). This world I'm exploring might be confusing at times, but please, bear with me. All (hopefully) will be revealed and explained in time.

Oh! And thanks to Kipling Bunny for reviewing the initial drafts of the first several parts of this story. She's assured me it isn't complete crap. So if you guys disagree, please blame her for giving me the confidence to unleash this story upon the world.

* * *

Stories Told and Untold

By Liam

* * *

PART ONE: THE FUTURE IS PROLOGUE

_It occurs to me that you truly have no idea of your importance. The impact you have, not only on your friends and colleagues, but society as a whole._

_The Dark Knight. The Batman. The silent, watchful guardian of Gotham. And I dare say, the Guardian of the Guardians, the Justice League._

_You always thought you were alone. But when was this ever so? There was Alfred, the Father. Dick and Tim, the Sons. Clark, the Best Friend. And Diana, the Love Unrequited._

_Your mission was never unique. Your cause always just. Your goals always shared. Your legacy so glorious._

_But you could have been so much more. Revered as you are, your works so iconic, you could have been a veritable god, if only you'd allowed yourself to be human..._

* * *

It was nearly ten o'clock when Celeste returned to her suite at the Belmont Plaza. The day had been long and tiresome. Especially for someone still growing accustomed to diplomatic work.

She clicked on the lights, illuminating the spacious quarters of The Empress Suite, the elite room of one of Gotham's most affluent hotels. Slipping off her sandals—it only took an hour in heels to realize she would never wear _those_ again—she swung by the living area. She picked up the controller to the television and clicked it on, finding a hockey game. The Gotham Blizzard versus the Coast City Sharks.

Man's World was so...odd. It was loud, obnoxious, and often cruel. But in the ten months since she'd arrived, assuming the position of Themysciran emissary to the United States, she had also discovered much wonder and beauty. Diana was right. Man's World was worth exploring. It was worth fighting for. And she was proud of her role in trying to introduce her Amazon sisters to this world.

And dear Hera, was hockey fun to watch.

The bedside phone rang. Celeste sat upon the soft mattress-the bedding was _much_ nicer in Man's World-and answered.

"Hello?" Her bright green eyes brightened upon hearing the voice. "Good evening to you." With a remorseful sigh, she said, "It's quite late. Perhaps tomorrow night?" Whatever the other person said, it elicited a smile. "I suppose a cup of tea wouldn't hurt. Thirty minutes?" Celeste smiled again, saying "See you then," before hanging up.

She wanted desperately to simply fall back onto the plush bed and relax for a few moments. But she knew that would only lead to her falling asleep. With company coming, she instead settled on another favorite luxury in Man's World—a shower. May Hera bless whoever devised indoor plumbing and hot running water.

She removed the clip holding up her wavy blonde tresses, intent on indulging in the luxury. But a knock at the door stopped her. Celeste's brow furrowed. It was late for unannounced visitors.

Answering the door, Celeste brightly greeted her visitor. "Oh! Good evening!" she said. "Won't you come in?"

Her visitor did just so, and Celeste closed the door behind.

* * *

At 9:47 the following morning, hotel staff opened the door to Celeste's suite. "Thank you," said Echo, the Amazon assigned as Celeste's assistant. She and Andromeda, a fellow Amazon and Celeste's security officer, entered the luxurious suite together.

"No problem," the male staff said. "I hope Miss Celeste isn't feeling sick. She's a nice lady."

While he stayed by the door, Echo and Andromeda explored the suite. It didn't take long to find their Sister. She was laying across the bed, wrapped in a black cloth robe, seemingly asleep.

Echo and Andromeda, warriors both, knew well that Celeste was not slumbering. "Merciful Hera," Andromeda murmured.

Celeste, their Sister, was dead.

* * *

END PROLOGUE


	2. Gotham Nights

Stories Told and Untold

By Liam

* * *

PART ONE: GOTHAM NIGHTS

By that evening, Hippolyta and the four Amazons comprising her personal guard had arrived in Gotham. James Gordon, Commissioner of GCPD, had seen much in his thirty-five years of service. While he'd never seen an enraged Amazon before this night, it was quickly rising up the ranks of the scary in a pantheon that included the Joker, Two-Face, Poison Ivy, and Killer Croc.

"How did this happen?" Hippolyta bellowed. She arrived at the Belmont to find a veritable army of Gotham Police and federal agents crawling the premises. None were able to provide an adequately explanation, or any explanation at all, of what happened to their Sister.

"Your Majesty," Gordon cautiously said, "we're currently investigating. I wish I could provide you answers, madam, I really do. But we won't know anything until our people do their jobs."

Though even Hippolyta knew the rage she directed at Gordon was misplaced, it was satisfying to scream at the older man. For his part, Gordon took it like a seasoned pro. He couldn't count how many angry parents had screamed at him over the years, imploring him to find their child's killer. He knew her anger wasn't meant to be taken personally. Rather, her anger was directed at everyone in Man's World.

"Despite the concerns of many on Themyscira," Hippolyta spoke, "I agreed to send an emissary to Man's World. For all that my daughter has accomplished, I felt perhaps it was time for Amazons to establish ourselves in world affairs. I was assured, by both the federal government of this nation and your city government, that all Amazons on this soil would be granted every privilege of a foreign dignitary. That included protection from the rampant crime and hatred that infects Man's World like a festering wound."

James Gordon stoically stood. "And you have my word, Your Majesty, that I will do whatever I can to see Celeste's killer brought to justice."

Hippolyta's eyes narrowed. "I wish, Commissioner, that I had your faith. I demand her body be placed immediately in our care. Celeste will be granted a burial befitting a warrior as soon as possible."

Gordon sighed. "Your Majesty, I wish you would reconsider. I understand how harsh this may sound, but her body is evidence. We need to examine her if we hope to catch her killer."

"I have made my decision, Commissioner." And with that, The Queen of the Amazons bid her leave, personal guard in tow.

Having stood silently during the entire exchange, Diana, the Wonder Woman, Daughter of Hippolyta and Princess of the Amazons, nodded solemnly at Gordon, an unspoken apology for her mother's tone. Gordon nodded back, confirming his understanding. She then pursued after Hippolyta.

"Mother," she said, "the way you spoke to Commissioner Gordon was both unnecessary and rude. I have had occasion to work with him. He's a good man."

Hippolyta's laugh was entirely without mirth. "Good as he may be, Commissioner Gordon is still but a man. And we need no man to solve the problems of Amazons. Nor do we need a man to desecrate the body of a Sister. We shall do as we've done for millennia gone by—find a solution on our own."

"With all due respect, Mother, but how do you propose we do that?" Hippolyta stopped, and Diana noted the uncertainty on her face. "When we sent an ambassador to Man's World, it was the first step to accepting them and their culture. Now we are to simply withdraw in the wake of our tragedy? Our Sister deserves justice, and her killer deserves to be punished for their crime."

"What do you propose, Diana?" Hippolyta questioned. "That we entrust our Sister to these men?"

Diana gazed hard at her mother, blue eyes shining. "Mother, do you trust me?"

Hippolyta's gaze softened at her daughter's plea. "Of course, my sun and stars."

"Then trust me when I say I do have faith in men." The corner of Diana's lip quirked slightly. "And in one in particular."

* * *

"Yee-haw!"

The small manned rocket zipped past the intersection of Pierson and Robberson, five stories high in the air, just as a small figure dropped onto a nearby rooftop. The figure watched as the rocket continued north at nearly two hundred miles per hour, its driver howling excitedly.

"Damn! I was too late!" the figure said. "She's still moving north on Pierson."

"_Copy that_," was the reply.

Thirty seconds later, another small figure landed on a rooftop further north on Pierson. This figure was also too late to intercept the rocket. Instead of speaking, the figure tapped twice against its earpiece, signaling the rocket was still on course.

"_Copy that," _was once again the reply.

Another thirty seconds passed, and this time a dark, hulking figure dropped onto a stone gargoyle overlooking the corner of Pierson and Spencer. This time, the figure was ahead of the rocket.

The rocket approached at amazing velocity. The figure crouched upon the gargoyle, like a coiled spring. This was gonna be tricky. It would have to be timed perfectly...

The Batman leapt from the gargoyle, unfurling his cape to operate as a glider. He was approximately fifty feet above the rocket, and two hundred feet ahead. He soared above for a few brief moments, then pitched downward, drawing the cape in to execute a power dive.

At the last moment, Roxy Rocket spotted him. With a mischievous grin, she pitched left, ruining his intercept course. But Batman was ready, and in a swift motion his grapple gun was out. He fired, the metal hook imbedding into the rocket's side. The rocket jerked at the sudden influx of weight, and Roxy struggled to maintain altitude. Batman tightly clutched the grapple, holding on for dear life.

"Give it up, Roxy!" he bellowed.

"Mmm," Roxy crooned. "I've been waiting for you to ask me that for ages!"

The pair zipped through the Gotham streets. As Roxy made a sharp left turn, Batman whipped far out to the right. Thumbing a button on the grapple, the line began to quickly reel him in. Otherwise Batman would have splattered against a building like a bug on a windshield.

"Must we do this every time you come to town?" he asked.

Roxy laughed. "Hey, baby! Like Jason, I keep coming back for the sequel!"

Batman pulled himself atop the rocket, directly behind Roxy. "Frankly, I think this franchise has been played out!"

Roxy mock pouted. "Really? Here I thought this was the best since the original!"

With a flick of his wrist, Batman extended claws from his fingertips. He dug at the paneling of the rocket, popping open a tile. Digging inside, he found a circuit panel.

"You have to know when to bow out gracefully!" was Batman reply.

Electricity erupted from his hand, discharging into the circuit panel and shorting it out. Suddenly the rocket lost all power, followed a moment later by its altitude. As the massive missile pitched down and began plummeting to earth, Roxy let loose with:

"Oooooooooh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiit!"

Quickly, Batman wrapped an arm around Roxy. With the other, he aimed his grapple and fired. The hook wrapped around a flagpole thrust out from a building. The rocket plummeted to earth, thankfully exploding in a vacant lot.

Clutching tightly to his chest, Roxy gazed up at Batman, a dopey, content smile on her face. "Was it good for you?" she asked.

Both looked up at a cracking noise. The mooring securing the flagpole to the concrete façade was breaking apart. They exchanged a quick glance, Roxy grinning widely as she said, "I think this is where we get off."

The flagpole gave way and the two fell to earth. Down and down, the concrete rushing towards them. Batman reached for his belt, extracting his backup grapple. But as he aimed, ready to fire—

A blue and red streak caught them midair. Roxy smirked at the sight of Wonder Woman holding them. "Oooh," she cooed. "A threesome. How promising."

Diana looked from Roxy to Batman. "Can I drop her?"

Batman paused. "I'm thinking about it."

* * *

Ten minutes later, GCPD took custody of Roxy Rocket and placed her into a secure van. But not before she blew Batman a kiss and shouted, "Call me! You have my number!"

Batman merely shook his head while Diana watched curiously. "She's a bit odd," she stated. "I always find it fascinating to observe the criminals in Gotham. They're unlike any seen elsewhere."

Batman grunted in agreement. "Her name is Roxanne Sutton. Former stuntwoman turned thief. Mostly she's in it for the thrill. She's an adrenaline junkie. Addicted to danger and extreme activities. I believe it's the only way she can achieve sexual arousal."

Diana's eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline. "Oh my. Definitely different here."

Batman spared a deferential glance. "What can I do for you, Wonder Woman?"

Diana lightly shook her head. It was strange how formal he was around her. But then again, if you'd told her three months ago that'd she be having any sort of conversation with Batman, she'd have called you a liar.

Two years doesn't seem like a long time. Especially not for an Amazon, who barring a fatal wound, can literally be described as immortal. But two years indeed seemed like an eternity, at least in relation to Batman.

One day, villains and heroes alike united to defeat the Braniac/Darkseid hybrid. It was a miraculous day, one that saw the Batman give the villains a "head start" as reward for their services. And for the next month, the euphoria of victory carried them all. Even the stoic and reserved Batman joined in the mirth. And in those few, sweet days, it finally seemed their personal relationship would actually get...personal.

But then tragedy struck. The Near Apocalypse, they called it. Strange, given how many other near apocalypses there were. This one in particular saw Ra's Al Ghul launch a systematic attack against the leadership of the Justice League, targeting their specific physical and psychological weakness.

The bad situation was made worse once they learned the truth. Ra's had stolen protocols Batman had devised in the event any League members went rogue. Ultimate disaster was diverted, thanks in large part to Batman's actions. But the perceived betrayal cut deep. Despite their deepening relationship, Diana didn't hesitate to vote for Batman's dismissal from the League.

Unapologetic, Batman called them "damn fools", and actually berated them for being aghast that he'd devised a contingency plan. "We're just a bad day away from becoming Justice Lords," he said on his way out the door.

A week later, Batman had a bad day.

Tim Drake, Robin, went missing. Weeks later, the Joker was dead, Tim was hospitalized, and Batgirl "resigned". It took one month for that information to reach the Justice League, and a chain of communication from Batgirl, to Nightwing, to Flash to make it happen.

The Founders were horrified. Superman immediately opened a communication channel to the Batcave. Diana was slightly surprised that he actually answered.

"What?" Batman growled.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Superman asked without any preamble.

"Wasn't League business."

"Dammit, Bruce, we could have helped!"

There was a brief pause. Then: "We've all made our choices. Now we must live with them."

The communication line went dead.

That was the last contact anyone within the League had with Batman for nearly two years. Any attempts to speak, whether by comm channels or in person, were rebuffed with prejudice. Even during Wayne Enterprises press conferences, Bruce deftly avoided answering any questions put to him by Clark Kent. Any Gotham charity galas attended by Diana resulted in a cold shoulder delivered by Gotham's Prince.

For an entire year, any information that trickled in from Gotham was achieved through secondhand information, typically via Black Canary, or Flash via Nightwing. The Batman, by all accounts, had grown darker and more vicious. Never quite crossing the line, but certainly straddling it.

Then all information dried up. This coincided with Bruce Wayne mysteriously going under the radar. Superman took a chance and approached Wayne Manor. Alfred didn't let him enter, and merely informed Superman that "Master Bruce had private business matters to attend to. When he plans to return is unknown." Superman told his fellow Founders that the usually stoic and put together butler was clearly flustered and confused, and quite obviously hiding something.

A month after disappearing, Bruce, and thus Batman, suddenly returned. Approximately two months later, or nine months ago, reports came to light that Robin was once again patrolling the city with his mentor. Six months ago, Batgirl was once more on the prowl. With the return of the Batclan, reports of Batman's escalated violence stopped.

Then, two months ago, for the first time in nearly two years, Watchtower received a recorded visual communication with Batman. While he remained steadfast that creating countermeasures was a prudent choice, he realized he could have admitted their existence without compromising their effectiveness. In short, he apologized. He further stated that he wished to rejoin the Justice League. He would do so in any capacity the Leaders saw fit, stating he would accept whatever consequences or probationary conditions they decided upon.

A few days later, he arrived on Watchtower. Using the Watchtower's system to remotely link to the Batcomputer, he transferred all files he kept on League members, along with an encrypted file containing countermeasures. A show of trust, he said.

A vote was cast. The Leaders unanimously approved, 8-0, Green Arrow and Black Canary having been elevated to the leadership council shortly after Batman's dismissal. He was granted a probationary membership, like any new recruit would be offered. If six months passed without incident, he would be granted full membership. After another six months, they agreed to vote whether to accept him back on the Leaders' Council.

Batman graciously accepted. For the first month, he was assigned to monitor duties. To the surprise of all, he performed these duties without complaint. After that first month, he was allowed to operate in field investigations, but only when partnered with a fellow League member.

"I think he's a clone," Flash said one day. "Or maybe a Pod Person."

Superman chuckled. "What makes you say that?"

"He's so..._different_," Wally said. "When we partnered up in Central City to take down Captain Cold and Golden Glider, I told a joke! And Batman _laughed_!"

Superman's brow furrowed. Diana wasn't sure she'd heard correctly either, so she asked, "He laughed?"

"Well..." Wally drawled, "more like a wry chuckle. But for Batman, that's as good as a cackle! It creeped me the hell out! And Captain Cold nearly wet himself! Or froze himself. Whichever."

Indeed, the one assignment Diana had worked with Batman, a stakeout operation in Hub City, she noticed how different he seemed. Almost...relaxed. He barely spoke a dozen words the entire course of the night, usually ending in a polite and deferential "Princess", but the change was noticeable.

"What's happened to you?" she had asked.

"So much, Princess," was all he said in reply.

Now, present day, Diana stood by Batman in the streets of Gotham, unsure what to say, feeling almost like a schoolgirl with a crush. Some things, it seems, never change.

"Princess, what can I do for you?" he softly repeated.

"I need your help."

"At the Belmont." Diana's eyebrows rose slightly. Batman said, "I listen. Police scanner built into my cowl. I thought about reporting immediately, but didn't want to intrude unless the League wished me to."

Well, some things change. The old Batman certainly wouldn't wait for League approval.

"Not the League. Me. Will you help?"

"Of course, Princess."

From above, two shadowy figures dropped onto the pavement nearby. One wore a sleek, black costume with a yellow outline of a bat emblazoned upon her chest. Where the opening of her mouth should be, the fabric was stitched closed. Diana found the image disconcerting.

The second wore what appeared to be a redesigned Robin costume. Deep red, black, and forest green. But unlike Tim's prior uniform, this came equipped with a dark hood, shadowing his face, only giving a hint of a mouth beneath the domino mask.

"Heya boss," Robin greeted, drawing down the hood. "I see you caught the Rocketeer."

Diana blinked, flabbergasted by what she saw. After a few long moments, she sputtered, "You're a girl!"

Sure enough, Robin sported a mess of blonde hair. With a grin, she said to Batman, "Wow, boss. You might have competition for the title of World's Greatest Detective."

The visible half of Batman's face quirked strangely. It took Diana a few moments to realize that he was fighting back a smirk. His efforts became even more strained when Robin approached Diana and offered an off-kilter curtsey.

"Stephanie Brown, Your Highness," she greeted. With a nod back towards Batgirl, she added, "And Cassandra Cain." In acknowledgement, Batgirl folded her arms across her chest and formally bowed.

Grin in place, Stephanie refocused her attention on Batman. "So, boss, what's next on the agenda?"

"Wonder Woman requires my presence elsewhere. You two can execute a quick sweep of the Bowery and head home."

Stephanie's jaw dropped, aghast. "What? It's barely ten o'clock! There are evils to fight! Wrongs to right!"

"Homework to do," Batman drolly concluded. "Or did you finish your history report while I wasn't looking?"

Suddenly, Stephanie wasn't quite so loquacious. Her bravado gone, she meekly answered, "Maybe?"

"And maybe you won't patrol for a month if your midterm report card shows any letters that aren't A's or B's."

"That's not fair!" Stephanie cried. "What possible value does Musical Theory have in crime fighting?" Turning to Batgirl, she pleaded, "Tell him, Cass."

Behind white lenses, Batgirl merely stared, no sounds emerging from behind her closed mouth. But yet to Diana it seemed an entire conversation was taking place.

Stephanie shook her head in disgust. "You always take his side," she grumbled. With a meek wave, she continued, "Nice meeting you, Wondy. Call me. We'll do lunch."

Aiming a grapple into the sky, Robin disappeared into the night. Batgirl again folded her arms over her chest, a show of respect, and bowed. Pulling out her own grapple, Batgirl followed her companion into the night.

Diana watched the rooftop onto which they disappeared for a few more moments. Then, turning to Batman, she said in astonishment, "Robin is a girl."

Batman nodded. "She'll be glad someone noticed. Apparently the boys at school don't."

END PART


	3. Take a Breath

Hello again! Thanks for keeping those reviews coming. They truly do make up for the love I didn't receive as a child. And continued thanks for bearing with me, guys. I know Batman's behavior is so strange. But I promise, as the chapters are posted, answers will come to light. Eventually. Until then, enjoy the occasional shipper moments and the scenes that will no doubt leave you going "WTF?" Anywho, what you're about to read was originally the end of Part Two, which is why it's a bit shorter. It's also why I'm posting it only two or so days later. Expect Part Four on Thursday or Friday!

* * *

Stories Told and Untold

By Liam

* * *

PART THREE: TAKE A BREATH

"I was wondering when you'd be here," Gordon said before taking a long sip of tepid coffee.

Diana didn't even bother to wonder how Gordon knew Batman was behind him. She attributed it to "it's a Gotham thing". The commissioner simply held out a small digital memory card, which Batman took.

It was difficult to fathom. Not even twenty-four hours ago, a Sister was murdered in this very hotel suite. To fall in battle was one thing, but for a Sister to be murdered was nigh inconceivable.

Diana folded her arms over her chest, feeling a sudden chill. Despite the reputation of both Gotham and The Batman, Diana knew this was more the norm. Not rampaging supervillains, but rather homicide investigations. And this was the true Batman. Not superhero, but detective.

She shivered. How did he and Gordon do this? Supervillains and alien invaders on the streets of Metropolis, dozens might die. But this seemed so much worse. So cold, so vicious, so much more malevolent.

Diana's bare shoulders were suddenly draped in a trench coat. She turned slightly to her left to find Gordon smiling kindly upon her. She hesitantly, but graciously returned the smile.

"Take a deep breath," he whispered, "and then take another."

Diana followed his instructions. She took a deep breath, slowly exhaled, then took another.

"Better?" he softly asked.

Diana nodded. "This is ridiculous," she whispered back. "I am Amazon. I should not be…"

Gordon cut her off. "This is different. No one gets used to this. Not police commissioners, not Amazon Princesses." He spared a glance at Batman. "Not anyone." Gordon's eyes met hers. "And you're not supposed to get used to it."

Small and childish as it made her feel, Diana hunkered deeper into Gordon's jacket. It smelled like coffee, cigarettes, and stale cologne. It was an oddly comforting combination.

While they spoke, Batman inserted the memory card into his left gauntlet. With a few keystrokes, his white cowl lenses flickered briefly. "No forced entry," Batman blandly stated.

It took Diana a few moments to understand. The memory card was for a digital camera. Somehow, Batman was able to view the images via his cowl. She couldn't help but smile. The man certainly thought of everything.

"Nope," Gordon agreed. "Also, far as we can tell, the keycard reader wasn't tampered with, nor was a forged keycard used."

"Meaning she opened the door for her killer," Batman began.

Gordon finished, "And so likely knew her killer."

Batman scoured the room, viewing two worlds at once. The tidied up, censored aftermath of her Sister's slaying to which Diana could presently see, and the raw imagery the police found upon arrival.

"Or it was someone made to look familiar," Batman posited.

Gordon grunted. "Gah. Shapeshifters. Who'd have thought I'd be saying that twenty years ago?"

Batman's lips quirked in amusement. "Missing the good old days, Jim?"

"You mean the days when our biggest worries were mob bosses, crooked cops, and shady politicians? You have to admit, things then were...simpler."

"That they were," Batman said, a touch of what almost sounded like whimsy in his voice. "Perhaps not quite as interesting."

"You can keep interesting. Interesting gives me ulcers."

"That's the GCPD coffee."

Was that a joke? Did Batman just make a joke? Before Diana could think too long about it, she heard him ask, "Preliminary findings?"

"No signs of assault. But I imagine if there'd been violence, the entire hotel would have felt it."

"And so would the killer. Believe me, I know," Batman said, casting a quick glance at Diana.

Gordon caught the glance and the fondness in his tone. He managed to quell the urge to smile. Instead, he simply waited for Batman to notice something in the photographs.

He knew the moment Batman spotted it. The way the younger man's shoulders went rigid, how his gaze became affixed to the small coffee table before the couch.

"They had tea," Batman said.

Gordon nodded. "Yes." Diana frowned, looked to Gordon. "There was a tea set upon the table when we arrived," he explained.

"Poisoning," Batman murmured.

"That's our working assumption."

"Whatever it was, it worked quickly."

"How do you know that?" Diana asked.

It was Gordon who answered. "A woman from a noted warrior class would have fought back once she felt the drugs take effect, even if only a feeble effort. There would have been more disruption to the room. And there's a matter of the body."

"Yes, she was on the bed," Diana said. "Which means the poison acted slowly, perhaps when she lay down to sleep."

Gordon shook his head. "The body was purposely positioned. Prone, hands over her stomach. Not a natural resting position."

"I don't know..." Diana began. But Batman interrupted with a seemingly random thought.

"Remember the meteor shower?" he asked.

Diana frowned, both in confusion at the question and trying to recall what he possibly could mean. Then it struck her. A month after Watchtower went operational, Diana had awoken in a panic to the sound of klaxons blaring. A small meteor shower rained upon the station. Startled by the strange noises and the sharp pings of frozen space debris impacting the deflector shields, she had immediately raced to the Monitor Womb.

Oh. Now she got his point. Diana blushed fiercely, recalling how when she had bolted into the Monitor Womb, it had been without a stitch of clothing upon her body. Only Batman and J'onn had been present, and Batman deleted the security footage before Flash found it.

Amazons didn't wear clothing to bed, she had explained to them. Thus, it wasn't likely that Celeste went to bed clothed. And never mind the fact she was blushing like a schoolgirl at the thought of Batman recalling her naked.

Batman, however, appeared to give it no second thought. His mind was back on the puzzle before him. "Anything missing?"

"Not according to her aides."

Diana was half-expecting him to have an epiphany. A singular Eureka moment in which his mind put together the pieces of this macabre puzzle. But he simply continued to observe the room, oblivious to their presence unless he needed to ask Gordon a question. She took this as normal procedure.

"The body?" he absently asked.

Gordon bowed his head, seemingly a show of embarrassment or shame. "According to the government's contract with Themyscira, we're to respect their autonomy whenever possible."

"So you had to turn the body over to Hippolyta before collecting evidence."

Gordon's eyes briefly flickered to Diana. "Yes."

Batman didn't seem overly concerned. "I'll talk to her. See if I can't get a blood sample."

Diana's brows shot up. Oh, that was sure to be an interesting conversation.

"With a blood sample, we might be able to isolate the compound used to poison her and perhaps narrow the search for our killer," Gordon said.

Batman blinked, then looked upon Gordon strangely, as if processing what he said. After a moment, he nodded. "Yes. That, too."

If Gordon was perplexed by Batman's comment, he didn't show it. Diana, however, was baffled. What else would the blood test show?

Batman spent the next ten minutes searching the room in silence. Gordon merely sipped cold coffee, obviously used to Batman's behavior while processing a crime scene.

"She's better," Gordon said, breaking the silence.

A tension Diana didn't even know was present seemed to lift from Batman's shoulders. His eyes flickered up briefly from his scan of Celeste's desk, meeting Gordon's for a moment, before turning back down.

"Of course, she still curses your name, but she's young and a woman. They tend to do that. She's at least given up poking needles into your effigy."

There was a brief grunt, possibly of amusement. A few minutes later, Batman wrapped up his scan of the room. "As always, when I have something..." Gordon nodded. "By the way, I caught Roxy tonight."

"Oh? How is our favorite firecracker?"

"Incorrigible as ever. She sends her love."

"I'll drop by holding in the morning."

Batman stood stiffly, awkwardly. Incredibly unlike the man Diana had known for so long. Finally, he said, "Be well, Jim."

"You too, Bruce."

Wait, what? Gordon knew? How did he know? And why was Batman not enraged by that?

As Batman moved to shuffle by, Gordon reached out and took him by the wrist. White lenses turned curiously to the older man. "We're good, Bruce. So stop worrying already." With a wry grin, he added, "If I was gonna kill you, I'd have done it by now."

Batman chuckled-chuckled!-and released the breath he'd been holding. With a quick nod to Gordon, he ushered Diana from the room.

They walked in silence down the hall, past various officers and crime scene technicians. She watched how all stood aside as Batman passed. Saw the respect, even reverence, their eyes reflected. Batman, of course, was oblivious. No, that's not true. Batman was never oblivious. But their behavior was relegated far down the list of importance. She expected his mind was already turning over a vast number of scenarios regarding Celeste's death, already working out which were viable and which were not.

As they rode the elevator down to the lobby, she made no secret of observing him. There was something decidedly different about him. He seemed...lighter. When she first met Batman, he reminded her of Atlas, perpetually bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders. But now? He seemed so at peace. So relaxed.

"Pictures last longer, Princess," he said.

"What's happened to you, Bruce?"

His white eyes flittered in her direction. For a brief moment, she thought he might actually spill. But his lips curled ever so slightly upward, and he said, "Not today, Princess. Not today."

"Tomorrow then?" she jested.

"Or the tomorrow of tomorrow," he replied, voice tinged with humor and whimsy. "For now, there are more pressing concerns. Diana of Themyscira, won't you reintroduce me to your mother?"

END PART THREE

* * *

So, I added the bit where Gordon gives Diana his jacket while I was doing revisions. I think it works for her and this story. To me, there's a big difference between death on a battlefield and murder, especially when a friend is involved. I like to think her reaction here humanizes her, not weakens her. And hey! Gordon knows Batman's secret identity? Hmm. I wonder if that's gonna be explained that? (looking ahead to future chapters) Oh, yeah, it is!

Again, please review!


	4. Enter the Madhouse

Hello again, boys and girl. Thank you, as always, for the reviews, favorites, and follows. I rather enjoyed writing the two scenes that follow. They're drastically different from each other. And I like to think they're each something that hasn't really been seen before. Hopefully you'll enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed creating them.

* * *

Stories Told and Untold

By Liam

* * *

PART FOUR: ENTER THE MADHOUSE

"Him?!" Hippolyta cried. "The dark wraith? He is the one you entrust to bring justice to our Sister?"

The conversation certainly began better than he expected. Perhaps he was a cynic when it came to dealing with Amazons, but any conversation that didn't begin with an order for his castration, he considered a good start. Though the way Artemis and Philippus were eyeballing him, he couldn't assume they wouldn't exercise initiative.

Dark Wraith? Batman kinda liked that. For a fleeting moment, he regretted the fact he couldn't print it on a business card.

In an empty sitting room located just off the Belmont's lobby, the Queen, her honor guard, Diana, and he gathered. The Queen's eyes widened to the size of saucers upon sight of him. Her honor guard, upon seeing his dress, immediately placed their hands upon the hilts of their swords. The youngest of the guard, a lovely girl with red hair, looked as though she might jump out of her armor if he so much as said "boo", so unnerved was she.

So much for being a hero of Themyscira.

"Is he one of Hades' demons?" the girl, Alkyone, asked. She took in the sight of the dark clad man and suppressed a shudder.

So fixated on her mother, Diana offered a distracted, "No, he just likes to pretend he is."

Women have a way of poking holes in a man's cool persona.

"Where is the other one?" Hippolyta asked. "The child of Apollo?"

Diana sucked in a calming breath and reigned in her frustration. "Superman is a remarkable warrior, mother, but he isn't The World's Greatest Detective."

Still appalled, Hippolyta turned to Batman with thinly veiled distrust. "How are we to trust a man who dresses so and hides his face? I have read of this city, Diana. How it suffers under the festering wound of immorality and injustice. And you ask me to trust the man who represents such a city? I don't know how I ever agreed to your suggestion we place our embassy here."

Batman curiously looked to Diana, but she pointedly ignored him. She asked her mother to establish the Themysciran embassy in Gotham? Why?

"Mother, do you trust me?"

Clearly agonized, Hippolyta offered a "Yes, of course I do, my daughter."

"Then please, trust me when I say this. Were I to suffer the fate of Celeste, there is no being on earth or in the heavens I would trust more to give me justice than this man."

Batman stiffened ever so slightly. Did she truly mean that? Did she still trust him that much, even after all that had happened? The Amazons still observed him skeptically, Hippolyta included. If she wanted a show of trust...

He stepped forward, raising a hand to his face and lifted away the cowl. Diana gasped, both at the action and what was revealed. This was her first glimpse of him without the cowl in person since his return to the League. Logically she knew to expect aging. After all, Bruce Wayne's recent fortieth birthday celebration made the front page of numerous newspapers. But it was startling to see the tell-tale signs on his face.

"Your hair," she murmured. "It's graying."

With the cowl removed, some of the real Bruce was allowed to come forth in the form of an easy, albeit strangely self-conscious smile.

"Some of us get old, Princess. Try as we might, most can't remain an eternal twenty-five."

Diana didn't realize she was staring. Her mother, however, fully noticed her daughter's fixation, and suddenly felt even less inclined to trust him. But he spoke so earnestly, with such conviction, she couldn't help but listen and be moved.

"Your Highness, what happened to your Sister is inexcusable. And the fact it occurred in my city, I find personally shameful. I vow to you and your people that I will not let this travesty go unpunished. But to do that, I need to see her. I need to examine Celeste."

Hippolyta remained unsure. "What exactly do you need to see?"

"I would like to perform a full exterior examination. I would also like to draw a blood sample."

Hippolyta scrutinized the Batman carefully for any signs of deception. "I will not have our Sister defiled in any way."

Batman bowed slightly, conceding to her wishes. "I understand. No autopsy. No invasive examination. I simply require two hours to examine Celeste before releasing her back to you. I swear upon my life, Your Highness, I will treat Celeste with the reverence and respect becoming an Amazon."

The Queen was wavering. "Two hours?"

"Yes, Your Highness. And if I may be so bold, I've had chance to study the funeral proceedings of your people. I believe I can arrange a suitable ceremony befitting one of Celeste's stature. With your permission, I can begin those arrangements and be ready at dawn."

Hippolyta's skepticism remained. Amazon ritual dictated that a fallen Sister's remains be consecrated and disposed of promptly as possible. It had already been over twenty-four hours since her demise. And it would take nearly another day to return her to Themyscira, and another half a day to prepare. If this Batman was truthful, then Celeste could be sent on her way to Elysium Fields in the morning.

To the astonishment of her honor guard, Hippolyta nodded in acquiescence. "I will entrust you to tend to our Sister. Please do not disappoint."

"Of course, Your Highness. Do you intend to return to Themyscira once the ceremony is concluded?"

"I do not. In Gotham I will remain until our Sister's death is avenged."

"Then please, allow me to open my home to you and your staff." Diana's jaw hit the floor. "I have more than enough room to accommodate you all. I'm sure Your Highness will find a room suitable to her needs."

Once more Hippolyta's eyes narrowed, attempting to discern a hidden meaning or motive in his words. Diana simply stared, mouth agape, at the blatant hospitality and chivalry Batman exhibited.

"I accept your offer...Batman," she spoke, his moniker mildly displeasing to her tongue.

Batman nodded, then replaced the cowl over his features. Diana found herself missing his blue eyes.

"Princess, I assume you can escort your mother to my home?"

"Yes, but aren't you coming?"

"Not just yet. I need to drop by Arkham."

"Trouble?" Diana curiously asked. "Do you require assistance?"

The Batman smiled. "No, I think I can handle it."

* * *

The Batman grunted. "Hmm. Good move."

Harleen Quinzel removed her hand from her black knight, which was now currently forking one of Batman's bishops and rooks. "I thank you," she said with a smirk, her Brooklyn accent still evident, but far less exaggerated than while in her "Harley Quinn" persona.

Alone together in the rec room of Arkham Asylum, Batman studied the chessboard and finally decided he'd rather sacrifice his bishop.

"I sometimes forget how bright you are," he said.

Harleen shrugged. "Only natural. Seems like ages since I worked here. Another lifetime, I guess. Then again, spending the better part of eight years dressed in a Halloween costume performing acts only a mad person would perform does tend to skew one's perspective." With a wry smile at the Batman, she concluded, "Perhaps you can relate."

Batman chuckled. "Almost fifteen years now, thank you."

"Well, gee whiz, by that measure you should have a VIP suite here."

"Some days I don't disagree."

"If you'd told me two years ago that I'd be having twice a week social visits with you, I certainly would have fit you for a straight jacket."

Batman grunted in bemusement. "Doctor MacGuire says you're doing well in therapy." Harleen's smile dissipated, and she began to fiddle idly with her queen. "Harleen?"

She sighed. Not able to meet his eyes, she said, "Bruce, you know it's not gonna make a damn bit of difference. I'm never leaving Arkham this time. I'm never going to get to raise my son."

"Harleen, Doctor MacGuire is impressed by you. And both Bruce Wayne and Batman are lobbying District Attorney Spencer hard for you. I think she's even coming around."

That did draw a smirk from Harleen. "I imagine so. It must be nice to have the Gotham District Attorney for a main squeeze."

Batman cleared his throat, embarrassed. "I only bought a dance at a charity auction."

"Uh huh. Such an interesting relationship between you two. Dating Kate Spencer as Bruce Wayne, but as Batman you work with the District Attorney...and the Manhunter."

Batman's eyes shot up. "How did you...?"

"You forget how bright I am," Harleen teased. "A red leather clad hero operates in Los Angeles for two years, then Kate Spencer is named DA of Gotham and Manhunter suddenly begins operating here alongside Black Canary and Huntress? I'm surprised no one else has figured it out."

"Harleen..."

"I've kept your secret, I'm hardly gonna spill hers." She blew a raspberry when Batman captured one of her bishops. "So how's work? I hear Foxy Roxy's due in for an eval."

"She will be, yes." Batman sighed. "Did I tell you about the armored car robbery last week? Some girl claiming to be The Ventriloquist is claiming responsibility."

Harleen frowned. "A girl Ventriloquist?" She screwed up her face at Batman's nod. "I don't like that. I know Arnie was nuts, but he was a sweet nuts. He was always good for a laugh. He's part of the reason I could bear Arkham in the past."

"I know." He noticed a flicker of something in her eyes. "Harleen?" She looked up at him, and Batman could see the gears turning in her mind, working out a problem. Yes, sometimes he really did forget how brilliant she could be.

"The last time Arnie was here...just before he died...we got to talking. About a girl."

"A girlfriend?"

"Arnie with a girlfriend? No. I don't think so. The way he talked about her, it was like how an uncle talks about a beloved niece." Harleen's eyes met his. "Or a teacher about a protégé."

"Did you get a name?"

"Yeah. Peyton, I think."

Batman saw she had more to say. "What is it, Harleen?"

For whatever reason, she seemed hesitant. "He showed me a picture. Blonde, blue eyes, mid twenties, pretty." Harleen sighed. "When you've been in this business as long as I have, on both sides of the aisle, you can eye-dee the nut jobs. Believe me when I say, this girl? She has the look."

Batman nodded. The general description matched that given by the armored car driver. And though Harleen might be locked in one of the world's most infamous asylums, she did possess a unique insight.

"So how about this deal at the Belmont?" Harleen asked.

"How do you know-?"

"NNN, Bats. Nuthouse News Network. We have correspondents everywhere."

"What have you heard?"

"The Themysciran Ambassador was found dead, probable homicide. The Queen herself is apparently in town and causing a ruckus."

"No probable about it. And yes, she is."

"Any preliminary theories?"

"Yes. None I doubt the Queen will like."

"Well, there's little to like about murder."

Batman silently marveled. Was this who she was before Joker's influence? "Tell me what you know about Themyscira and their world relations."

"Why do my thoughts matter?"

"You're a trained clinical psychologist with unique insight into the criminal mind. Humor me."

Harleen took a deep breath and began to recite her knowledge.

"Their connections are tenuous at best. They've made no secret their distaste for many world policies and many nations throughout the world have made their distaste for Themyscira known as well. I also know there's a division within Themyscira itself. A small but vocal group called the Bana-Mighdall that opposes the Queen. They're isolationists who believe Amazons have no duty to the outside world." She studied the Batman. "Do you think her murder was politically motivated?"

"I think it's a possibility."

"Has anyone claimed responsibility?"

"As of yet, no."

Harleen considered this. "If it were a political assassination, one would think the responsible person or group would be eager to claim it." Batman grunted lightly. Harleen read into the noise. "Which is why that's not your top theory." She thought for a moment, then her eyes widened. "Oh my. I understand why you say the Queen won't like the answer."

Batman was suddenly very grateful she never exhibited such clarity during their battles.

"How's Wonder Woman?"

"She seems well," he said, purposely focusing on the chess board.

"Mmhmm," she hummed with a knowing smile. "I think it's good for you to be back with the Justice League. Gives you people to talk to."

"I talk to you."

"Shall I even mention how sad a commentary that is on your life? You're too good a man to have to settle for this."

"If you say so."

"I do. After everything that's happened, our whole sordid past...you're here talking to me like I'm a person. I rest my case." She advanced one of her knights. "Though for someone with your brilliant reputation, you're somewhat lacking as a chess player. Checkmate."

Batman blinked and stared at the board. "Dammit."

"If you like, you can blame your defeat on being distracted by my infectious personality. Or my breasts."

Dryly, Batman said, "Yes. That's almost certainly the reason." He tipped over his queen, conceding the defeat.

Harleen smiled wanely. "Go on. I imagine you have work to do."

Batman sighed. "I do." Rising to his feet, he asked, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

Harleen curled up in her chair, drawing her knees beneath her chin. For a moment, she looked young and innocent. "Nah. The nurse'll be here in a minute to give me my meds. In twenty minutes I'll be out like a light. Be safe out there, okay?"

"I will. Good night, Harleen."

"Good night, Bruce."

END PART

* * *

Hmm. The hits keep on comin', eh? For those who need a refresher, in this world, the Joker is now dead. And as is insinuated in "Return of the Joker", Harley becomes a grandmother. So she's gotta have a child of her own. And you better believe I'll be exploring this a bit later, too.

While it wasn't originally part of my plan, I think I'm going to write interlude chapters featuring Stephanie and Cassandra. Why? Because they're awesome. And in my head, they're absolutely hilarious together.

Next Chapter will probably be out circa September 5th. Until then, please review!


	5. Secrets To Tell

Hello, boys and girls. Again, thanks for all the reviews, favs, and follows. I decided to post this part a day or so early. Please don't be upset.

Anywho, a few things regarding our journey so far. First, one reviewer was under the impression that Kate Spencer, Manhunter, is an original character. Nope. Created by Marc Andreyko, she was a Los Angeles ADA and later Gotham City DA, as well as a member of the Birds of Prey. And with respect to Wonder Woman, she's far and away my favorite female superhero, thus why she's gonna play a supporting role in this fic.

And as a reminder, according to "Return of the Joker", Gordon was entrusted with Bruce and Barbara's identities. This info will come in handy when you scroll down.

* * *

Stories Told and Untold

By Liam

* * *

PART FIVE: SECRETS TO TELL

Less than thirty minutes after departing Arkham, Batman returned to his sanctuary, parking the Batmobile next to a GCPD coroner's van. Climbing out, he approached James Gordon, who stood in the center of the cave, gazing about in open wonder.

"I trust you made it in easier this time?"

"If my hair weren't already white," Gordon said, "driving down that entry ramp would turn it." Looking about the cave, he continued, "No matter how many times I see this, I'm still flabbergasted." He waved to the myriad of technology strewn about. "And not just about how you managed to get all this stuff down here to begin with. But for the life of me, I'll never figure out how Gotham's most infamous playboy turned out to be The Batman, vigilante and superhero, and how you managed to operate for over fifteen years in almost total secrecy." Gazing up at the Tyrannosaur, he concluded, "And what's the deal with the big dinosaur?"

"Jim, you have to let me keep a few secrets."

"Bruce, you're a book of secrets. I could read an hour a day for the next year and not get past the first chapter."

Gordon popped open the rear doors of the coroner's van. He and Batman rolled out a cart carrying Celeste's body, wrapped in a black body bag. The pair rolled the cart into a nearby laboratory, one seemingly well suited for examinations and autopsies.

"Do I wanna know how many times this room has been used?" Gordon asked.

"No, you don't."

They hoisted the body bag onto the exam table, where upon Batman unzipped it. The men gazed upon the woman, her eyes closed, an almost serene expression on her face. She might well have been sleeping.

"She was beautiful."

"Never seen an Amazon who wasn't."

"Immortality. And this is how it ends."

"I think with immortality, this is the only way it can end."

Gordon considered that. "I'm fine with seventy years, so long as it's with a decent head of hair and a loved one at my side at the end."

Batman nodded at his sage words. "One can hope."

Gordon exited the room, once again taking in the awesome sights of the Batcave. "Must help being a millionaire."

"Billionaire, Jim. Millionaires are so last year."

With Gordon gone, he could turn his whole focus upon Celeste. "Computer, activate video and audio recording."

"_Video and audio recording engaged."_

"Forensic examination: Celeste of Themyscira, Ambassador to the United States. I'll begin with an external exam."

* * *

Bruce clearly took the time to forewarn Alfred. By the time Diana arrived with Hippolyta and her guard, the scent of spiced meat, beans, and rice were wafting through the manor. Two years since her last visit and Alfred still remembered how she enjoyed Mexican.

"Alfred, it's been a while," Diana smiled.

"Far, far too long, Your Highness." Ever the gentleman and stickler for proper decorum, Alfred bowed primly and properly in greeting to first Diana, then the Queen herself. "Your Highness, might I express what an honor and privilege it is to host such an esteemed lady."

Seemingly thrown by a man's cordiality, Hippolyta nodded politely in return. "I thank you and Bat – Mr. Wayne – for the hospitality."

Pleased to see her mother's negative expectations once more thwarted, Diana turned to Alfred, intent on delivering another shock. "Now that the perfunctory courtesies are taken care of, may we greet each other properly now?"

"Indeed, Miss Diana."

Diana threw her arms around Alfred, warmly embracing him, and throwing in a kiss to the cheek for good measure. Alfred reciprocated the hug with all the affection his upbringing and good manners would allow.

"Oh, it's been too long, child."

"I know. I only wish the circumstances were better."

"As do I, my dear."

The members of Hippolyta's guard were flabbergasted. The two elder Amazons, Artemis and Philippus, looked to their Queen to see if they should strike down the man who dared touch their Princess. Alkyone, the youngest, demurely turned away and blushed.

The Queen remained stoic and silent. It was clear her daughter had formed close relationships in Man's World. This was of no surprise, at least intellectually. To see this in action, to see her daughter so comfortable in Man's World, to embrace a man...it was unsettling.

"I smell food," Diana happily cooed.

Alfred allowed himself a pleased smile. "Indeed. When Master Bruce alerted me to your coming, I took the liberty of preparing a meal and accommodations."

"Smells like enchiladas."

"Does it? Why, I do believe you are correct, Miss."

"I love enchiladas."

Alfred feigned shock. "Do you, Miss? What a happy coincidence then."

"You are the master of happy coincidence, Alfred."

* * *

Hippolyta could admit, these...enchiladas...were tasty. And the wine was of high quality, too. It was enough to relax her to a degree, make her forget some of the awkwardness and discomfort of being in this environment.

And it was vaguely disconcerting to watch her daughter so at ease with a man, no matter how kindly and proper he seemed. She laughed and told stories with the man in the same manner and with the same exuberance she would with a Sister.

Sipping her wine, Hippolyta watched as her daughter sobered for a moment. "What's happened to him, Alfred? What's gone on these past two years?"

"Much, my dear. Much," was his vague reply, reflecting Bruce's own answer. "Alas, it isn't my story to tell. He'll reveal all when he is ready."

Diana snorted in a decidedly un-Princess like fashion. "I won't hold my breath."

"Perhaps you should," Alfred said. "You would be surprised at some of the changes."

"Like a girl Robin?"

Alfred laughed. "You've met Miss Stephanie?"

"She asked me to call her and do lunch."

The man chuckled fondly. "Yes, she is a bit rambunctious. But Master Bruce is quite taken with her as a protégé. And with Miss Cassandra, for that matter."

"I'm sure there are stories there?"

"Indeed, Miss."

"But not ones for you to tell?" she questioned in amusement.

With a twinkle in his eye, he answered, "Apologies, Miss."

* * *

"I hope these accommodations will suffice, Your Highness."

Hippolyta took in the sight of the spacious bedroom with wide eyes. The dark green and burgundy hues. The inordinately large and plush bed. The antique furniture. She paused at an oil portraiture. A handsome young couple. Thomas and Martha, the inscription read.

"Is this bedroom occupied?" she asked of Alfred.

"No, Miss," Alfred replied. "Not in many years. But Master Bruce was quite insistent that one of your stature should be allowed use of the manor's master bedroom suite."

"My compliments to your Master," she said.

Alfred nodded. "Does the Lady require a wakeup call? I understand the ceremony is to be undertaken at sunrise."

"That will not be necessary," Hippolyta answered with a genuine hint of good humor. "We Amazons have arisen before the dawn without assistance for millennia."

"Very good, Your Highness." Alfred sensed The Queen had further comments to make, a skill he'd picked up in his years of service, and thus hesitated at the door. Sure enough, Hippolyta spoke a moment later.

"Your Master will make good on his promise to us?"

"Master Bruce fulfills all his promises and obligations."

"Why?"

Alfred knew very well what she inquired after, but still he said, "Why, Your Highness?"

"Why does your Master feel the need to make and fulfill a promise to me?"

"Because Master Bruce felt it the proper course of action. I should like to believe that I've instilled good manners into my charge."

Hippolyta didn't believe for a moment that was the extent of the reason. "Is that all?"

"If Master Bruce has deeper motivations to perform this act, I would be quite confident to say those motivations are equally noble."

Hippolyta had suspicions what those deeper motivations were. She nodded to Alfred, an indication his service was appreciated and that he may retire. Alfred took the cue with ease and departed, leaving the Queen alone with her thoughts.

* * *

At sunrise, just as he promised, Bruce provided for a ceremony befitting an Amazon. A dozen workers, paid discretely off the books, arranged a funeral pyre in the south garden.

To the astonishment of Hippolyta and her fellow Amazons, Celeste was prepared to enter the afterlife in exacting fashion. She was meticulously cleaned and anointed in ceremonial oils. She was dressed in a flowing white gown, her battle armor and weapon resting beside her. Taken from her suite by Gordon, Bruce explained.

Bruce and his new family stood a respectful distance aside. He and Alfred wore their best suits, while Stephanie and Cassandra wore appropriate black dresses.

Artemis led the proceedings. Words were said, stories of valor and virtue were recounted. And as the dawn rose, a torch was lit and presented to the pyre. A song was sung as Celeste of Themyscira was ushered into the afterlife.

"Bruce...thank you," Diana whispered.

"Of course," he said.

Hippolyta, also in her ceremonial white vestments, offered her thanks. "I owe a debt of gratitude, Mister Wayne. You are a man of your word."

"I simply did my duty," he assured.

The Queen nodded slightly, acknowledging his humility. "I trust the time spent with our Sister was informative?"

Bruce hesitated. "Your Highness, perhaps we should retire to the manor before we speak of this."

The Queen stood resolute. "Mister Wayne, if you have information about our Sister's death, we will hear of it now."

He hesitated. There truly was no good way or place of presenting this information. But he took a breath and spoke anyway. "Your Highness, Celeste was murdered. She was given a compound, most likely slipped into her tea. I've yet to identify it, but preliminary results indicate it metabolized quickly. She was dead within minutes of ingestion."

Bruce hesitated. Diana saw this, and reached for his arm, meant to be a soothing gesture, but Bruce flinched as if in pain. She pulled back, but asked, "There's more. What is it?"

He stared at the ground, unable to meet any of the Amazons in the eye. "Her blood tests showed something else. Elevated hormone levels. Particularly HGC and estrogen."

Though Hippolyta and her guard wore blank expressions, Diana's eyes widened.

"Because of this, I performed a gynecological examination. Your Highness...I found evidence of a recent miscarriage. In the very recent past, Celeste was pregnant."

END PART

* * *

Oooh. Plot twist! Gives me chills. Hope you all enjoyed. As always, please read and review. If you have comments or questions about this story, please, feel free to send a pm.

In our next chapter, Batman is interrogated by the Justice League's High Council! Also, Batman and Robin return to the scene of the crime. And Diana receives a stunning surprise!

I've also decided to write a series of interludes starring Batgirl and Robin as they track down The New Ventriloquist. Stay tuned!


	6. A Series of Awkward Conversations

Hello, boys and girls. Sorry for the delay in this part. Was on a bit of a break this week, had family in town, so my extracurriculars got put on hold. But anywho, I'm back with a brand new installment. As opposed to the clip show installment I was planning on posting. crickets chirp Yeah. My humor is a work in progress.

* * *

Stories Told and Untold

By Liam

* * *

PART SIX: A SERIES OF AWKWARD CONVERSATIONS

To say Hippolyta reacted strongly to the news of Celeste's pregnancy would be an understatement. She immediately called for the beheading of whatever "lecherous man-scum that dared defile a child of Themyscira". Basically, she acted like a mother.

Perhaps a bit discouraging, Bruce thought, as he considered the woman to whom Hippolyta truly was "mother". Diana, blessed by the gods and goddesses of Olympus with virtual immortality and unsurpassed beauty, still managed to stir his emotions to a nearly frightening degree.

Though he found himself embracing that fear more than ever before.

"Bruce," an insistent voice called out.

Behind white lenses, Batman lifted his gaze to meet that of Superman's. To be truthful, he hadn't been listening to a damn word, but in true Batman fashioned, he faked it really well. By simply holding Superman's gaze for a few moments, in patented Bat-glare fashion, he prompted his former best friend to restate his question.

"Are you withholding any information in regards to this case?"

"No," he said shortly.

Batman sat quietly in a chair in the heart of Watchtower's Inner Sanctum. Across from him sat the eight member Executive Council, consisting of the other six Founders, plus Black Canary and Green Arrow.

It was Arrow who said, "Would you tell us if you were?"

Batman simply rotated his neck a few degrees to fix his blank stare upon the Emerald Archer. Oliver didn't think Batman's intent was to send a chill down his spine, but the effect was achieved anyway.

"Of course. Full disclosure in League matters was a condition of my probationary return."

Green Arrow shivered. Dammit, he was trying to hold it in.

Superman wasn't sure he bought Bruce's words, but regardless said, "Thank you, Bruce. If you'll excuse us?"

Batman simply nodded, rose to his feet, and with a flourish of his cape, exited the Inner Sanctum.

Oliver turned to his fiancee. "Do I look that cool exiting a room?"

"No," Dinah said simply.

He noticed how her gaze was still afixed to where Batman had been. Frowning, he asked, "Were you staring at his ass on the way out?"

"Maybe a little."

Before Oliver could delve deeper, Superman addressed J'onn.

"Anything you can provide, J'onn?"

The Martian shook his head. "Batman's mental capacities and control have always been astounding. Far more impressive than the typical human. But the undercurrent of rage lurking deep in his subconscious allowed a degree of access. A thread of emotion I could use to traverse his mind."

"And now?"

"The rage is gone. His mind possesses a peace and serenity that few humans are capable of achieving. His mind is more unreadable to me than ever."

Superman sighed, turned to The Flash. "Wally, you get anything from Nightwing or Zatanna?"

Once more, the answer was a shake of the head. "Dick and Bruce haven't always gotten along, but Bats is still his old man, ya know? He's not gonna talk out of turn, especially to someone outside the family. As for Zee, well, she's immune to my considerable charms."

Shayera snorted in laughter. "Not that considerable." Wally pouted in adorable fashion, and Shayera stuck out her tongue in a friendly gesture. "Bruce was Zatanna's first love" she explained to the group. "She's extremely loyal to him. She'll never divulge anything."

"Diana? How about you?"

Diana considered the question. The past two days had been a revelation, but what useful information had she truly learned? "He's been compassionate, considerate, and courteous."

Wally laughed and joked, "We're asking about Bats, Di, not King Faraday."

Diana blushed at the mention of her occasional beau. "As was I, Wally. He arranged a proper Amazonian funeral ceremony and opened his home to my mother and her staff."

John Stewart blinked. "Batman is playing host to your mother?" Diana nodded. "Okay, maybe Flash is right. Maybe he is a pod person."

"Ha! Told ya!"

"Does he know more about Celeste's murder than he's letting on?" Superman asked.

"Probably," Diana admitted. "Or at least he suspects something. And with Batman, we all know that his suspicions are as good as knowing."

Superman sighed. "He's opened up his files to us, but what goes on in his head is as big a mystery as ever." He turned to Black Canary. "Dinah, do you or the Birds have anything to offer?"

"Besides the fact Manhunter has the major hots for him?"

Diana did her best to suppress a flash of jealousy. Dinah continued on, either not noticing Diana's chilled expression, or perhaps she continued on precisely because she did notice.

"I doubt Huntress knows much or cares to. She and Batman aren't exactly close. In the past couple months, I've assisted him on a few cases."

"And?"

"Well...I don't feel comfortably saying."

Superman was astonished. "What? Why?"

Black Canary shrugged. "Gotham heroes unite. We protect our own, and we don't air each others laundry."

"Dinah—"

"If that's a problem, I can tender my resignation from the Executive Council." It didn't take a Batman level intellect to deduce how serious she was. "Gotham isn't like the rest of the world. We have our own code, our own rules. And if you operate in Gotham City, you're part of the Batman's family."

Superman looked ready to protest, but Diana stepped in. "That's okay, Dinah. I appreciate you not wanting to break any confidences." Dinah winked, sending her appreciation.

"Is there anything you _can_ tell us?" Superman asked.

"If you want a better idea of things, I would talk to Manhunter, Kate Spencer. As District Attorney, she and Batman talk shop about twice a week." Dinah chuckled. "Poor Kate. She actually thinks Batman doesn't know she's Manhunter."

Superman turned back to Diana. "He understands this is officially a Justice League case now, yes? He's to share all information with you and include you in all investigations."

"Of course."

"Does he care?"

Diana answered the only way she knew how. Honestly. "I think he cares deeply."

* * *

"Oh yeah! She was definitely preggers," Robin called out.

"Your supporting evidence?" Batman asked.

"Only a pregnant woman keeps that much pickles and hot sauce in her fridge. And I found enough soda crackers in the cabinets to feed the birds of Robinson Park for a year."

Batman sat at Celeste's desk, pondering the computer and myriad of books and files surrounding him. "Suggestive, but not conclusive."

"How about the copy of _What To Expect When You're Expecting_ I found hidden in the bathroom?" Robin displayed the book with a proud grin.

Batman's lip quirked in a smile. "That's my girl."

Diana stood a distance away, watching the pair work. Batman and Robin. A new Batman and Robin. In so many ways. She confessed to feeling a bit useless. She wasn't an investigator. And here she was with The Dark Detective and his new star pupil.

"You gonna crack that computer or what, Boss?"

"How do you mean?"

"Plug in your decryption flash drive."

"What would they tell me?"

Robin paused. It was a loaded question certainly. "Um..."

"A password, Robin, is a special thing. Unique. Telling. It delivers a hint into the person. Like how your password is..."

"Don't say it aloud!" she yelled, blushing fiercely beneath her domino mask.

Batman smiled. No need to mention before Wonder Woman how Stephanie's password was "CutieTim".

Hippolyta was confident, vocal, and insistent that the test results were wrong. That Celeste would never defy Amazon tradition. That a Sister could become so corrupted by Man's World as to bear a child was inconceivable. An Amazon was true to herself, her Sisters, and her home.

Discouraging to hear, Batman thought, as his eyes flickered to Diana. What must she think of Celeste? Did she scorn the woman, or was she sympathetic? He couldn't help but wonder to what degree she had come to embrace Man's World and felt a pang of regret when he realized he didn't even know. Even before his self-imposed exile, he'd never been one to show much interest in such things.

He lightly shook his head, clearing his mind of such thoughts. There would be time enough for them later. For now, it was Celeste and her foray into Man's World he needed to take interest in.

And he didn't doubt the degree to which she had assimilated herself into Man's World. The evidence wa plainly visible if one took the effort to look. In less than a year, Celeste had found deep passions in this new world.

A quick search of the suite's DVR showed it well used. Celeste had a fondness for Food Network and History Channel, particularly shows about drive-in food and pawn shops.

An entire desk drawer was littered with movie and hockey ticket stubs. Celeste seemed to enjoy romantic comedies and the Gotham Blizzard. In the closet, right next to her mace and bow and quiver, there was a hockey stick, autographed by Vasily Federov, the Blizzard's star right winger. In the drawer, there was even a photograph of the pair taken on the ice. He was demonstrating the proper technique for holding the stick, with a closeness and intimacy that while unnecessary, Celeste didn't seem to mind.

Suspect number one, Batman thought. He typed 'vasily" into the password prompt. It read back: _Password Rejected – Two Attempts Before System Locks._

Batman grunted.

Finally, in another closet, hidden behind the perfunctory Amazonian dignitary robes, the modern business suits and gowns worn at events or the office, were Celeste's "personal" clothes. Skirts and dresses, sweaters and t-shirts and hoodies, even a pair of surplus army boots. Most everything was second hand. The general style was bohemian chic. Celeste had discovered thrift shops.

And then there were the books. Lots and lots of books. Littering the desk and neighboring shelves. What was curious was how everything was arranged. The books on the desk, plus those on the shelves around eye level, were all political, historical, and philisophical texts. It was obvious that Celeste had taken great pains to study not only the modern world and its philosophies and politics, but a history of it going back beyond the Renaissance.

There were also other books that would be expected. Greek and Roman history, myths, and literature. No doubt she compared Amazon history of events to those depicted by male counterparts. Then there were volumes of classic Western literature. Everything from _Romeo and Juliet_ to _Great Expectations _to _Brave New World_ and _To Kill a Mockingbird_.

Batman studied the books. The text books were all brand new. Probably ordered from Barnes and Noble or, perhaps ironically, Amazon. However, the fiction books all appeared to be second hand. Beaten, battered, and well used. Celeste had also discovered used book stores.

He frowned. Except for one. A collection of Romantic poetry. Batman took the book in hand and studied it. The book was clearly old. But unlike most of the others, this one appeared well loved and tended for. The binding, while faded with age, was otherwise free of blemishes.

She didn't pick this up in a used book shop. A second hand shop wouldn't offer this kind of care. Only a rare book shop would keep a book in such fine condition, and there was no reason for such a shop to keep this book, because it was a fairly generic collection of 18th and 19th Century poetry.

Someone gave her this book. Someone who took good care of it, who treasured it, valued it. And Celeste was apparently worthy of giving such an item to.

He flipped open the book. A folded page of paper fell out. Batman delicately unfolded and read. It was a short letter, but after reading it, Batman was convinced. He needed to find this man. This...Joshua.

He typed the name into the password prompt. Again, negative. Only one try left.

Stephanie reappeared, a wrinkled black shirt in hand. "Okay, whoever daddy is, he's never spent the night here."

"How can you tell?" Diana asked.

"There isn't a single men's hygiene product in that bathroom. No shampoo, body wash, deodorant. Not even a spare toothbrush. But I did find something cool in the hamper."

Both watched as Stephanie held up the shirt and shook it out. Imprinted on the chest was an oval shaped yellow field, inside which was a black Bat symbol.

Diana had one just like it. Not that she'd ever admit that to anyone. Well, Shayera knew, but that was only because she was a snoop.

"I thought at first it might be a boyfriend's. But the lingering scent is definitely feminine." Stephanie sounded a bit wounded when she said, "I didn't see a matching Robin shirt anywhere." Then, with a teasing grin, she asked "So, how's the password hunt going?"

"How's your project for chemistry class going?"

The grin was promptly wiped off her face. She disappeared again, grumbling something about "dirty pool". As she left, Diana refocused her attentions on Batman, studying him as he studied a book.

"You knew she was pregnant."

Batman glanced up briefly. "I thought she might have been, yes."

"How?"

He tapped his cowl. "Crime scene photos. I noticed how her physique wasn't quite the Amazon ideal. Ankles were thick, stomach undefined. General bloating."

Diana chuckled. Batman, ever observant, ever vigilant.

He expected Joshua to be the password. Frowning, he turned back to the letter. Upon a second reading, certain words and phrasings jumped out at him. _The grace in your auburn tresses, how the moon lights your face. _Allusions to _She Walks in Beauty_. Charming. A bit overplayed, but charming.

He tried "lordbyron" in the password prompt. It beeped and allowed him access. Passwords. They certainly deliver hints about a person. Batman inserted a flash drive and began downloading Celeste's files.

"You knew Celeste?"

Diana startled at the sudden question. "Yes. Celeste was greatly admired as a philosopher and teacher on Themiscyra. I spent many a day under her tutelage. She was a revered figure."

A soft knocking sounded from the suite's door. Diana opened it, revealing Echo, Celeste's chief of staff. The Amazon entered the room.

The woman bowed formally. "Princess, you wished to see me?"

"Actually, Sister, my friend wishes to speak with you."

With a wave, Diana indicated Batman. Echo's eyes turned in his direction. Her brows furrowed slightly, obviously insulted to have been summoned by a man. But proper decorum remained intact.

"Batman," she coolly greeted.

"I'd like to ask you a few questions. Is that okay?"

"As you see fit."

"Did Celeste have an active social life?"

Echo's words were carefully measured. "She considered it her duty to explore and integrate into Patriarch's World."

"She made friends?"

"Celeste was sociable and engaging. Whether she considered those she met friends is a point I am not qualified to attest to."

"And did she ever have visitors up to this suite? Male visitors?"

Echo's lips pursed. "Celeste believed this place to be a place of business. It is possible she occasionally received a guest, but I am unaware of any. She did frequently go out without an escort. I am unaware of any...males...she might have known."

Batman remained silent for several long moments, seemingly weighing her answers. Finally, he nodded. "Thank you, Echo."

Echo took that as dismissal and hurriedly vacated his presence. Obviously his sunny personality didn't charm all Amazons.

Once her Sister departed, Diana turned to Batman. "Have you learned anything this evening?"

"I make a point to learn every evening."

Diana smiled at his attempt at humor. "Specifically in regards to this case?"

Batman hesitated briefly. "Perhaps," he allowed. "I'd like time to analyze her files before commenting." He noticed the slight frown. "Diana, I won't keep you or the League out of the loop. I just need time to study and think."

Diana considered a moment. She wanted to trust him. "Okay," she agreed.

With that settled, he called out, "Robin!" In moments, Robin returned. "Meet up with Batgirl. I want you at the docks tonight."

Robin saluted. "Aye-aye, Cap'n." She marched towards the balcony, her hand reaching for her grapple gun.

"Use the front door like a civilized person."

Grumbling about having to use the elevator, Robin marched out of the room.

"To the Batcave to analyze her files?" Diana asked.

"Later," Batman said. "I've been putting something off for too long. I should tend to it."

"Nice to see for all the changes, you've managed to retain your air of mystery."

Batman smiled, a gesture that continued to completely astound Diana for its seeming incongruity.

"Would you like to have coffee with me tomorrow?"

And the surprises kept on coming. Diana, the warrior and picture of royal grace, actually tripped over her own feet. "What?" she sputtered.

In her own surprise, she didn't quite pick up on his tone of speech, his rushed tones. As if he had to quickly push the words out before he could change his mind.

"I usually take a lunch break around one o'clock. I can slip away from Wayne Enterprises for some coffee or food. If you're agreeable, that is."

After so many years of their cat and mouse game, was Batman actually asking her out...on a lunch date? Diana had no cause to accept. Beyond the fact they were in the midst of investigating her Sister's death, she had only just rekindled her working relationship with Batman. They didn't nor ever had much of anything resembling a personal relationship, despite, in her opinion, a mutual attraction. There was too much murky history that simply couldn't be ignored, and far too many unknown variables here in the present. There was no way in good conscience that she could accept a date, no matter how casual it might be.

"Okay," she said. It was a moment before she realized she had accepted. Stupid, traitorous mouth. Was it not paying attention to her brain?

The smile on his face was one of relief. And bewilderment. He hadn't actually expected her to say yes.

"Good. There's a café near the Gotham River, on the corner of Kane and Ninth. I'll meet you there."

Batman hurriedly rushed off, out the suite. Diana simply stood in there, watching the door even long after his departure.

"What the hell just happened?" she asked the empty room.

END PART

* * *

Good question, Diana. I guess you'll have to wait until your date to get some answers. The next part will be a short one, but an emotional one. I'm a little anxious to see how you all react to it. Two words: Barbara Gordon.

What do you think of Batman's encounter with the Justice League? Oh, that Dinah Lance, she's a firecracker. One can hope Katie Cassidy does her some justice. Then again, I'm still waiting on the new writer on Birds of Prey to do the same.

As always, thanks for all your reviews and favs. Please, if you dig what you're reading, give me those little bits of PM love.


	7. All Apologies

Howdy boys and girls. Thanks as always for your reviews. It seems I'm falling into a weekly update schedule. From this point on, I would expect new chapters on Sundays, with an occasional update during the week. Before you delve into this chapter, please remember that I'm following the continuity of the animated universe. With that said, on with the show!

* * *

Stories Told and Untold

By Liam

* * *

PART SEVEN: ALL APOLOGIES

It'd been a long twelve hour shift. Barbara Gordon, rookie patrolman with the GCPD, wanted nothing better than to take a shower, pop some food into the microwave, maybe catch a bit of late night television, and then go to bed.

The elevator dinged, the doors sliding open on the fourth floor. She only took two steps before noticing the large man waiting by her apartment door. Her eyes narrowed and her voice was frosty.

"A man lurking by my door? I think I'm legally allowed to shoot you."

Bruce Wayne smiled tightly. "I come in peace?"

Barbara fished inside her pocket for keys. She turned the two heavy deadbolts. It wasn't a particularly nice neighborhood. With a heavy sigh, she asked, "What do you want, Bruce?"

"To say I'm sorry."

Barbara's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Huh. Haven't seen any aerodynamically inclined swine about."

"It has been unseasonably cool in Gotham, though."

"Touché." She shouldered the heavy wooden door and it budged open. "You can heat my dinner while I shower."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Barbara emerged from the bathroom. Clad in an oversized Gotham State University t-shirt and black leggings, a cream colored towel wrapped around her damp hair.

She paused at the entranceway to the kitchen and watched her guest. Bruce gazed into her refrigerator, a frown creasing his features.

"There're a lot of takeout cartons in here. And a lot of frozen dinners."

"I don't get much chance to cook."

Bruce seemed disturbed by that fact. The microwave beeped. Donning a pair of floral patterned oven mitts, he popped it open and removed a steaming plastic dish of lasagna. He gazed around helplessly for a few moments, unsure where to place the food.

"I usually eat on the couch," Barbara offered.

Bruce nodded. For the moment, he set the lasagna aside on the counter. Then he opened the oven and removed a strip of aluminum foil, two pieces of toasted buttered bread upon it.

"Water, wine, or soda?" he asked.

"If you and I are going to talk, I should probably go with alcohol."

Bruce frowned again, but picked a wine glass from a cabinet and a bottle of red wine off the counter. Barbara accepted the full glass and retreated into the living room as Bruce scooped the lasagna and bread onto a plate.

When he entered, he found Barbara curled up on the far end of the couch, legs curled beneath her body. As he handed her the food and examined her face, it struck him how young she still looked. Barely older than when they first met. She'd been a teenager, not even seventeen yet.

A deep pang of guilt gnawed at his stomach. He had abused this girl. There was no way around it.

Barbara rolled her eyes, having read his mind. "Stop it. I was of age and consented." She took a drink of wine and swallowed. "And really, with our pasts, the circumstances surrounding the beginnings of our affair are among the least consequential of our issues."

Bruce grunted. "Fair enough." He twisted his hands nervously in his lap.

It was wrong of her, but Barbara was rather enjoying the sight of his discomfort. Still, the decent part of her decided to have pity. "So. For which of your many, many infractions against me have you decided to apologize for?"

Okay, so there were varying degrees of pity. It was in her right to choose among the lesser ones.

Bruce cringed. "All of them."

Barbara sighed. Holding up a finger to pause him before he launched into some soliloquy, she stuffed a forkful of piping hot lasagna into her mouth and washed it down with wine. Setting plate and glass aside, she indicated for Bruce to join her on the couch, and shifted slightly to face him.

"Here, I'm going to be enormously gracious and make things easier for you."

Bruce exhaled in relief. Though the relief was short lived.

"Yes, I was young when we got together. Yes, I was probably naïve. But I'm hardly the first younger woman to get involved with an older man. There are so many memories that I cherish. Our weekend holiday to Prague. Moonlight strolls around Robinson Park. Spending Sunday mornings after patrol in your bed, napping and making love."

Barbara leaned forward and took her wine glass. Swallowed another big gulp. As she clutched the glass to her chest, he could see the gears in her mind turning, formulating her thoughts.

"You're a good man, Bruce, for the most part. But God..." Her sharp blue eyes locked on him. "Do you have any idea what you did to me?"

Bruce remained silent. He wanted desperately to turn away from her gaze, but he owed it to her to give her his undivided focus. And right now he saw the tears that were beginning to well in her eyes.

"I can live with how you rejected me as a woman," she said. "God knows I had breakups before you, and I've had them since." She laughed humorlessly. "Though I will give you credit. No man ever pulled it off in the heart wrenching, soul crushing fashion you did."

Bruce exhaled sharply, as if punched in the gut. Barbara took a modicum of vindictive pleasure in his reaction. She pressed forward.

"No, Bruce, what really hurt, what really destroyed me, was how you rejected me as your _partner_." She shook her head incredulously. "Christ, Bruce. Everything we went through. We worked together for nearly four years. Fought so many battles."

She took another drink of wine. It was a bit ridiculous, but Bruce momentarily fretted how her dinner was getting cold. Then again, he nuked it once, it could be nuked again.

"You were the reason I held it together when Tim was taken. And when we found him... You were my strength. And when you accepted my idea to bring my dad in, to reveal our identities to him, it felt good. Despite the tragedy, I thought we were closer than ever. Batman and Batgirl. Partners. _Equals_."

"And then I ended it," Bruce croaked.

"Why, Bruce?" she asked, eyes shining. "I was in love with you. Our partnership, our friendship, it meant everything to me. And you..." Barbara searched for the proper word. The one she found sickened him. "..._discarded_ me."

It was clearly his turn now to speak. Wringing his hands, Bruce tried to summon up the words.

"For so long it was just me. And when it was just me, I didn't have to worry about anyone. But then Dick came along, then you and Tim. And we were a family."

Barbara smiled at the memory. For a brief moment, Bruce did too.

"But when Tim was hurt...it was like I was in Crime Alley again. Clutching at pearls and huddled by my fallen parents. A little boy with a shattered world. I reacted instinctively. I pushed you and Dick and Tim away. Because I can't lose what I don't have." Bruce shook his head, haunted by visions. "When I stood above Tim's hospital bed, gazing down at his fragile body, I felt a crippling fear. I envisioned finding Dick's broken body on some rooftop. I saw you in our bed, the life gone from your eyes, killed by one of my enemies, because I wasn't there to protect you. I panicked. I couldn't stop Dick. He had his own operation. But I could stop you. I could remove you from danger. And I didn't give you a say in the matter. For that I'm truly sorry. I know that hurt you."

"It did," she choked out. "I hated you for that."

"I'm sorry, Barbara. You deserved so much better."

"Yes, I did."

Bruce wasn't sure what else to say. Barbara apparently didn't either. She tipped back the glass of wine and finished it off in a big gulp. She set the glass on the coffee table by the cold lasagna.

"Do you want me to reheat that?" Bruce asked.

"No," Barbara said. "I'll finish it in the morning. If you'll put it in the fridge?"

Bruce nodded and took the plate into the kitchen. He found a roll of plastic wrap, covered the food, and set the plate in the fridge. Returning to the living room, he found Barbara still clutching at her empty wine glass.

"I, uh, I should go to bed," she said. "I have another shift tomorrow."

"Sure." Bruce gathered his jacket and prepared to leave. Unlocking the various deadbolts, he paused a moment, and looked back. "You should come by the manor for dinner sometime. Alfred can feed you a proper meal."

"Okay. I'd like that." And she truly meant it. "And Bruce?"

"Yes?"

"I forgive you."

Bruce smiled his sad smile. "Be sure to lock up behind me."

He closed the door behind him. But he didn't leave until he heard Barbara slide the locks back into place.

END PART

* * *

Yeah, it's a short part, and perhaps a bit of an odd one, but I felt compelled to write this conversation. I was rather intrigued by the animated universe insinuating a romantic relationship between the two. Please, lemme know what you think. And for the record, the Batgirl/Robin side adventure is still planned to happen. Expect part eight of the main story next Sunday. Ta!


	8. Heartbreaker

Hello boys and girls. As promised, here is Part Eight. I had a bit of trouble with this part, especially the bit that leads off. But I think I did a decent enough job with it. Anywho, as always, thanks for everyone who reads and reviews this silly little story. I appreciate it greatly.

* * *

Stories Told and Untold

By Liam

* * *

PART EIGHT: HEARTBREAKER

It was after one o'clock in the morning when Bruce returned to the manor. He stopped by the kitchen to brew some coffee and grab some food, a bagel and bowl of fruit slices, before making his way down to the Cave.

His first course of action was to check the Batcomputer. Calling up the tracking signals for Stephanie and Cassandra, he saw both were at the East Dockyard. Their biometric readouts were steady. With a satisfied nod, Bruce contented himself in the knowledge that his girls were okay.

His girls. It was still mildly astonishing how easily he came to think of them that way.

He popped a piece of strawberry into his mouth. "Can I interest you in some fruit, Your Highness?" he asked.

From the shadows emerged Queen Hippolyta, impeccably dressed in her royal vestments. A faint trace of amusement flickered across her face.

"I thought perhaps my daughter exaggerated. But you do have the keen senses of a hunter."

"Make no mistake, Your Highness. Though it possesses towers of concrete and steel, Gotham is no less a jungle than any you might find on Themyscira."

"Quite so," the Queen allowed.

"What can I do for you, Your Highness?"

"Please, Mr. Wayne, when in private and not bound by the chains of formality, I believe Hippolyta will suffice."

"Very well. Hippolyta. You can call me Bruce."

Hippolyta gazed about the cavernous surroundings. The titter of bats echoed overhead. Their breaths fogged slightly in the cool, damp air.

"What measure of man devotes himself to such darkness?" she pondered.

Bruce couldn't contain the wisp of a smile that played on his face. "Ah. So we're about to have _that _talk."

Hippolyta curiously gazed upon him. "_That_ talk?"

"The one in which you question the morals and integrity of a man in such close association with your daughter." He waved to the central chair poised at the Batcomputer console. "Would you have a seat?"

The Queen took the offered seat. With a noticeable hint of amusement, she asked, "You have been anticipating such a talk?"

"I have."

Hippolyta coolly studied him. "I think you are a man who disdains innuendo and suggestion. May I be forthright with you, sir?"

"Please."

"My daughter is in love with you."

With those words, Hippolyta's face screwed up, as if she had bitten into a fresh lemon. Bruce's heart soared, but he kept the indifferent façade upon his face.

"I think she was," Bruce admitted. "Two years ago."

"She still is," Hippolyta informed. "A mother knows. It's in how she looks at you, speaks of you."

Bruce stood stoically, hands clasped behind his back. He remained silent for the simple fact he didn't know what to say.

"I think it goes without saying that I am distressed by this knowledge."

Well, that was disheartening to hear. "I take it you don't approve then?"

Hippolyta seemed to consider his question. She sat with her fingers steepled beneath her chin, looking perfect regal and contemplative. Bruce was suddenly struck by the completely random and ridiculous thought of how marvelous her posture was.

"I am not a fool, Bruce. When my daughter chose to make her home in Man's World, I understood the possibility of this occurring. Of her falling in love with a man."

Hippolyta fell silent. Perhaps he was exhibiting his innate paranoia, but Bruce couldn't help but read the subtext of her words. Taking a shot in the dark, he asked:

"You hoped it would be Superman."

"I wouldn't say hope. As evidenced by my reaction to Celeste's pregnancy, the idea of any daughter of Themyscira, much less the one I call my own, to cavort with a male in such a manner is distasteful to me. I would much rather Diana remain a paragon of virtue and innocence. That said, yes, I had considered the possibility of Superman as consort and was not violently appalled by the prospect."

Bruce wasn't sure how much more his self-esteem could take.

"I do not mean this as an insult."

"Of course."

"He is a remarkable specimen. A symbol of truth and justice and light. The finest warrior on the planet. While you are..."

"A mere mortal who flitters about in the dark dressed like a flying rodent?"

Hippolyta once again allowed a hint of a smile. "Again, I do not intend to offend."

"Yes, well, I realize my profile leaves much to be desired. If you like, I can give Diana Superman's e-mail address.."

This time, a chuckle escaped the Queen's lips. "You are a peculiar man, Bruce."

"One of the kinder adjectives ever applied to me. I thank you for your generosity."

"What are your intentions towards my daughter?"

Bruce was taken aback. There was no easy answer, for even he wasn't completely sure. "I don't know."

Hippolyta's gaze hardened as she studied him. "I have concerns. Not only in regards to this…bat persona…you adopt. The darkness you shroud yourself in. But also the way Bruce Wayne lives. Your womanizing ways are known to me."

Bruce's cheeks reddened slightly. "Those accounts are mostly exaggerated."

Hippolyta quirked an elegant brow. "Mostly? Not completely?"

"I must be honest, My Queen. I do mean mostly. Forgive me, for I am but a sinful man. I confess that I occasionally succumb to my primal, instinctual urges. "

The Queen nodded, respectful of his honesty, but wary nonetheless. "I worry about you, sir. I worry for the darkness I sense lurking in your soul. I fear it is all-consuming."

Bruce shrugged and tried to joke. "Yyou should have seen me two years ago. Then you'd really worry."

Hippolyta was not swayed by his attempt at humor. "What I fear most, Bruce, is that if you should become too close to my daughter, that darkness may also infect her."

Bruce sighed heavily, his eyes closed, chin buried to his chest. "A reasonable concern, Hippolyta. And one that I share."

"And regardless of your intentions towards Diana, should any of my guard discover the specific…dynamic…of your relationship, it's entirely likely one or all will challenge you to a duel in defense of my daughter's honor."

"I'll try not to hurt them too badly."

Hippolyta looked affronted by his comment. "The members of my guard are among the finest warriors on Themyscira."

Bruce shrugged. "I'm better."

He said it so simply, so matter of factly, that Hippolyta couldn't help but believe him, if only for a moment. But the moment passed, and she found herself anxious for the opportunity to show this male how able her Sisters were.

As it were, she merely asked, "And how progresses your investigation?"

"Slowly."

"Have you any…what is the term? Suspects?"

"I have a few leads, but no persons of interest as of yet." Which was entirely true. Though he wished to uncover the identity of this "Joshua" who saw fit to give Celeste a book of poetry, he had no reasons to believe as of yet that he was the killer.

"Please, indulge me. Would you recount what you know?"

"Of course." Talking about a case. So much easier than discussing his feelings. "Robin and I have both conducted interviews of hotel staff, plus reviewed surveillance footage. No staff claims to have seen any suspicious persons that night. And the surveillance tapes are incomplete. According to the contract Themyscira has with The Belmont, no audio or visual recording is allowed on the floor since all rooms are designated for usage by your people. As of now, it's impossible to determine who was even on that floor at the time of Celeste's death."

"I may be a novice in the modern world, Bruce, but from Diana I have learned some facts," Hippolyta said. "She says that with technology, there are…fingerprints? Yes, fingerprints."

"Digital fingerprints, yes," Bruce said, impressed by Hippolyta's understanding. "Before your people moved in, a security system was installed upon that floor. Each entry point, three elevators and two stairwells, is limited to keycard access. So one can only gain access by possessing a keycard or being buzzed in by someone already on the floor. In theory."

"In theory?"

"Keycards can be easily cloned. And I've not fully studied the computer systems to know what other technological loopholes there may be. And, even trickier, I can't know whether someone granted access to her killer, either knowingly or unknowingly."

Hippolyta stiffened. "Knowingly?"

"Yes, Hippolyta."

"Those women you speak of, sir, are Amazons."

The venom in her voice was unmistakable. Bruce knew his next words needed to be phrased carefully. Very carefully.

"I understand, Hippolyta. But as a detective, I cannot afford to make assumptions. To do so can cost lives. Until the evidence speaks otherwise, everyone must be suspect. And if I might be blunt, it is not unprecedented for an Amazon to commit a criminal act."

Aresia. Who many years earlier had attempted to execute a genocide by releasing a virus designed to attack those with a Y chromosome. Males. Diana, Shayera, and Hippolyta herself had foiled her attempt.

The reminder of her former Sister tempered the heat in eyes. "My daughter said you were meticulous. Once more it seems her words prove truthful." With a nearly preternatural grace, she rose from his chair. "I bid you good evening, sir. I believe I shall now retire to bed."

Bruce solemnly nodded. "Good night, My Queen. I trust your accommodations are proving suitable?"

"Quite so, Bruce. Quite so."

With that, Hippolyta ascended the stairs and returned to the manor. Bruce sat at his chair, which now vaguely smelled of jasmine, and set to work.

* * *

There were times when even Diana could admit that being a world famous celebrity had its advantages. Such as when one had a lunch date with a moody, gorgeous, billionaire industrialist who moonlighted as the world's most infamous vigilante and thus needed an appropriate dress to wear. Fashion designers practically beat each other with clubs just to get her in one of their creations.

"No!" she exclaimed, tossing aside a midnight blue Ella Miranda gown. Too formal. A red Valentino joined it on her bed. Too flashy. And this black Isabella? Her mother would be scandalized for all eternity if she wore it in public.

So busy was she rooting through her closet, she didn't hear the soft puff of air signaling her door opening. Nor did she notice the winged woman standing in the doorway watching her. Not until she spoke.

"Are you really gonna do this to yourself?"

Diana squealed in surprise. So much for a warrior's training to mind her surroundings. "Do what?"

"Don't play coy," Shayera said, entering the room. "I know it hurt when he left the League, but after a while, I thought you had finally begun to move on. Hell, you even started dating Faraday. Now The Bat pops up, says he's sorry, and suddenly you're acting like a starry eyed schoolgirl again."

"Your point?" Diana asked, annoyance seeping into her voice.

"I don't want him breaking your heart again for the umpteenth time."

"That's not going to happen—"

"Diana," Shayera sharply interrupted. "You lose perspective when it comes to him. Rational thought leaves you, along with any good sense."

Diana sighed. "I know." She continued to flip through her dresses, undeterred.

"Are you really willing to open up like that for him again? Willing to put your heart out there for him to crush?"

Diana swallowed, fighting back her emotions. Her fingers traced over a fuschia Jessica Jasmine dress. She loved this material. It was so soft. "Yeah," she said. "I guess so."

Shayera studied her. After a few moments, she sighed. Reaching into the closet, she picked out a white blouse. "Match this with a skirt. Wear sandals, not heels. You don't want to tower over him. It's only a lunch date, so dress casual. Hair up, minimal makeup. And for Hera's sake, keep the conversation simple. Work related if you can, but if things do get personal, don't do that thing you do."

"What thing?"

"Where you get all earnest and forthright and open. No discussion of those long repressed feelings that you both harbor. Again, keep it simple. Something like _'Hey, I noticed Robin has boobs now. How'd that happen?'_ Stuff like that. And I swear to any god you care to name, if you come back cursing his name because of some jackass thing he said or did and I _once again_ must indulge you in an ice cream and comfort binge, I'm just gonna put you both out of my misery. Comprende?"

Diana chuckled. "Comprende." With a complete lack of bashfulness, she began to remove her armor. Shayera, unfazed by her friend's nudity, simply watched as Diana began to redress in the suggested clothes. After buttoning two buttons on her blouse, Diana stopped, sighed, and looked at Shayera. "He seems different though, right?"

"Yes, he does," Shayera admitted. "But different doesn't always mean better."

END PART

* * *

I couldn't help it. For those of you who follow the comics, I had to make a crack about . For those not in the know, look it up in regards to the recent hookup between Supes and Diana. Anyway, the next main part of the storyline will probably come next Sunday. But I may have some sort of updated before then. I also think that the middle of next week might be when Part One of my Batgirl and Robin interlude will be posted.

As always, please, tell me what you think. Reviews make me a happy, happy boy.


	9. An Interlude Dreams In Darkness

Stories Told and Untold

By Liam

* * *

INTERLUDE: DREAMS IN DARKNESS

_It was his worst nightmare come to life. Gotham, his city, his home, a burning pyre of concrete and steel. All around him fires raged. Emergency personnel fought valiantly to stem the tide, but this would be a battle they could not win._

_ Gotham was lost._

_ Beside him stood a dark figure. Petite and slender. Donning a visage that was eerily similar, yet disturbingly alien._

_ "Do you see?" the woman asked. _

_ Bruce swallowed hard. Nodded. "I see."_

_ "This goes against all the rules," she said. Her eyes turned to the inferno surrounding them. "But how can I not break them, when in you there's a sliver of hope?"_

_ Bruce didn't answer. He couldn't. He merely watched as Gotham descended into Hell._

* * *

Bruce awoke with a start. He was still in the Batcave, slouched in his chair at the main console. A half cup of cold coffee and a bowl of fruit slices sat before him. His computer continued playback on an encrypted file.

_"But you could have been so much more. Revered as you are, your works so iconic, you could have been a veritable god, if only you'd allowed yourself to be human..."_

"Stop playback."

The console beeped and ceased playback.

Bruce brought his hands to his face and rubbed his weary eyes. But no amount of coaxing could wipe away the memory of the fires.

END INTERLUDE

* * *

Reviews are welcome and appreciated.


	10. More Questions Than Answers

Hello again boys and girls. Wasn't that Interlude a crazy little update? I wonder what that was all about? Hopefully that somehow ties into the story at some point, otherwise that was just a waste. Anywho, thanks as always to you special little guys and gals who review and favorite and all that.

I had to write this first scene. As I've mentioned, Manhunter/Kate Spencer is my favorite female comics character. So I had to include her and give her an animated counterpart. If you don't know this character, pick up a copy of the "Street Justice" trade paperback.

And finally, Scott Lobdell, I'm putting you on notice. Not only have you disgraced the Teen Titans as a whole, but you've royally screwed up Tim Drake's backstory. That, buddy boy, as far as straws go, is the last freakin' one.

* * *

Stories Told and Untold

By Liam

* * *

PART NINE: MORE QUESTIONS THAN ANSWERS

Sometimes Kate Spencer wondered what in the world possessed her to move cross country and become the District Attorney of Gotham City. And by sometimes, she meant every day. Some days the thought never even left her head. Granted, working in Los Angeles created its fair share of headaches, but the insanity in Gotham reached a whole new level.

Not only did she have to deal with all the typical violent crimes associated with a major city, but Gotham was still notorious for mob activity. Throw in the sheer volume of criminal acts perpetrated by supervillains and Kate was looking at the K2 of case file mountains piled in the corner of her woefully small office..

Harvey Dent must've gone crazy even _before_ his accident, dealing with all this.

And by all accounts, the city was much, much worse fifteen years earlier. Some of the older people around the office referred to them as The Dark Days. They claimed Gotham was on the verge of falling into the abyss. Those were the days before The Batman. Kate couldn't even begin to imagine how bad Gotham must have been if the current state of affairs was an _improvement_.

Okay, perhaps that was overly cynical. In relation to other major cities around the country, Gotham's violent crime rates weren't astronomically high. In fact, in several key categories, Gotham came in below the national average. The mobs and gangs of Gotham, while still dangerous, were a shadow of their former selves. And many of Gotham's most notorious supervillains were finally locked away, missing, or dead. Many were actually heralding a Golden Age for Gotham.

Funny the impact a man in a Halloween costume can have.

Kate's thoughts were interrupted by the tone of her intercom activating.

_"Miss Spencer,'_ her assistant, Damon, said, _"I'm sorry to disturb you, but you have a visitor."_

Kate rubbed her weary eyes. "Do they have an appointment? If they don't, unless it's an emergency…"

_"No, ma'am. No appointment. But I think you'll want to accept this guest."_

"Oh?"

_"It's Wonder Woman, ma'am."_

Kate blinked in surprise. "Whowah?" she managed to ask.

_"Yes, ma'am. My thoughts exactly. Shall I show her in?"_

"Oh, hell yes! I mean, crap, gimme a minute, okay?"

Kate frantically scoured her office for her purse. Finally finding the bag hiding beneath a newspaper, she dug around until she found a compact and tube of lipstick. She checked her appearance and quickly freshened up her makeup. It's not every day a Justice League Founder shows up in her office, at least not the one voted People Magazine's most beautiful female six years running.. Like hell Kate was gonna look like a slob.

She tabbed her intercom and asked Damon to show Wonder Woman in. She picked a few pieces of lint off her suit jacket, then attempted to smooth out the wrinkles in her skirt. Holy crap, Wonder Woman was here to see her! This was so awesome.

There was a quick knock at the door. Damon pushed it open, and with an elegant sweeping motion, he beckoned her into the room. "Wonder Woman, this is District Attorney Kate Spencer."

Diana stepped forward and offered her hand. "Miss Spencer, it's so wonderful to finally meet you. I've heard only good things."

Kate took Diana's hand and squealed in delight. She then promptly clamped her free hand over her mouth, her cheeks reddening in embarrassment. "Oh God, did I make that noise?" she asked.

"It's okay," Diana assured. "I get it all the time."

"Please, have a seat. Would you care for a drink? Water, tea, coffee?"

"Oh, no thank you, Miss Spencer."

"Please, call me Kate, Wonder Woman."

"Only if you call me, Diana."

Kate nearly squealed again, but managed to rein it in. Was it embarrassing to be acting like such a fangirl? Absolutely. Did she regret it? Hell no she didn't. Wonder Woman! In her office! Just wait until she told her son about this.

"I apologize for my lack of an appointment. It's very gracious of you to receive me."

"Are you kidding? My door is always open to a member of the Justice League. It's an incredible honor to have you. I'm a big fan, in case you couldn't tell. Now please, what can I do for you?"

"I was hoping to talk to you about a mutual colleague. The Batman."

Diana watched as Kate stiffened noticeably. She tried to gauge the reason for the woman's reaction. But Kate's words threw her for a loop.

"I'm sorry, but the vigilante known as The Batman is not affiliated with the Gotham City Police Department, nor the District Attorney's office." Diana stared quizzically at Kate, who shrugged in embarrassment. "Yeah, I'm sorry. We're supposed to quote that line. Officially Batman is a wanted criminal who is to be arrested on sight."

Diana was aghast. "After all he's done for this city? For the world?"

Kate held up her hands in a gesture indicating she was not to be blamed. "Hey, I'm with you. If it makes you feel any better, no one has tried to apprehend him in years. It's simply a holdover from regimes gone by. Now, what would you like to discuss?"

Diana continued to fume. She mentally made note of Gotham's outdated policy and vowed to bring it to someone's attention.

"As you are likely aware, Batman has elected to return to his Justice League duties after a prolonged absence."

The Justice League had a few "Official Policies" of its own. Number one of the list? When asked by non-League personnel, The Batman tendered his resignation in order to more fully focus on Gotham. There was no mention of his action precipitating The Near Apocalypse, nor his subsequent dismissal. The Founder's Council had unanimously agreed on that vote.

"So I've heard. I suppose with so many new friends and allies running around Gotham, Batman has more time to devote to the world."

This comment gave Diana pause. It was an interesting thought. Was it relevant? Was that Bruce's idea? It might be worth further consideration.

"Tell me about Batman," Diana said.

Kate quirked a quizzical brow. "I should imagine you know him far better than I."

"I knew him. Quite well, I think. At least, as well as Batman allowed anyone to know him. But the man I've come to know in the last three months bears little similarity to the man I knew two years ago."

"And what makes you think I know him any better?"

"From what I gather, you and Batman have a familiar working relationship. I was hoping you might provide some insight."

Kate kicked back in her chair, hands folded across her stomach. "What is there to say ? We exchange information. I keep him apprised on high profile investigations. He captures bad guys and drops them off at my front door with enough evidence in tow for slam dunk convictions. I like to think it's a mutually beneficial arrangement."

"And what of your relationship when in costume?"

Kate's face drained of color. She laughed nervously. "Uh...hehe...what do you mean?"

Diana smiled kindly. "Miss Spencer, I'm with the Justice League. Our resources are...extensive."

Kate sighed. "Well...poop." She pouted a bit, then her face twisted into a hopeful expression. "How long did it take to figure out?"

"A while, actually," Diana admitted. "Undoubtedly much longer than it took Batman." She tried not to grin when Kate's eyes widened to the size of saucers. "World's Greatest Detective, remember?"

"Well, poop," she said again. "I probably shouldn't be surprised."

"No, you shouldn't."

"So what exactly is it you want to know, Diana?"

"I want your honest assessment of Batman."

Kate considered the question. After a few moments, she shrugged. "I first heard stories about him back in college, from friends of mine who grew up in Gotham. They spoke of him like a dark legend. A bogeyman. Most swore up and down he wasn't real. But they all said once rumors of him got out, they weren't so afraid to go out at night anymore.

"And then the supervillains came out of the woodwork, you know? And suddenly the Batman was real, but he was like a shadow. This dark, mysterious force of good. I mean, he sounded so freaking cool. I kinda wished he was our hero. No offense to Mr. Terrific and Firestorm, I know they're colleagues of yours, too. But they aren't Batman."

Diana laughed. "I completely understand."

Kate continued on. "And then you saw him in the Justice League. By then, everybody knew, or at least suspected, that he was just a man. But he was hanging with the Titans." Her brow furrowed at her allusion to Greek myth. "Metaphorically speaking, of course."

"Of course."

"You all had these amazing powers. And yet this normal man was a part of the group. What did he bring to the table? Again, no offense, but it seemed clear to me that he was the smart one."

Once again, Diana laughed. "No offense taken. For you are correct."

Kate nodded, vindicated at having her assertion confirmed. "Just watching him from a distance, you get this impression. Kind of like a Clint Eastwood character. Cool, detached. Comes into town, kicks ass, saves the day, then rides off before you can offer a word of thanks."

"A fairly accurate observation, actually," Diana admitted. "And when you met him in person?"

"Oh, he's definitely all that," Kate said. "So much larger than life. It's easy to forget he's just a man. He's supremely brilliant , scary intense, and laser focused. And let's be honest, that dark suit and flowing cape makes for a hella mysterious and intimidating figure." Both women laughed at that. But as Kate sobered and grew contemplative, her eyes fixed upon a point faraway. "That said…"

Diana couldn't help it. She leaned forward in her seat in anticipation. "Yes?"

"He has moments that are very…human. Just last week, we were discussing a pending case. I made a joke, some stupid joke that I can't even remember now. But he laughed. Well, more like chuckled, but I sense for him that was practically a belly laugh. And a month ago while I was out patrolling as Manhunter, I helped him on a missing child case. Some thugs were holding an eight year old girl for ransom. Well, perhaps help is too strong a word. I stumbled into the area and found Batman beating the crap out of the kidnappers. But when the fight was done, and we had the bad guys tied up, he took the little girl in his arms...and smiled. And she held onto him so tightly."

Diana could picture it in her mind. A scared little girl, no older than Bruce when his great life tragedy occurred, clutched feverishly to his chest as he wrapped his cape around her.

"He has a really pretty smile," Kate said.

It was plainly obvious that she hadn't meant to say that aloud. She blushed a deep red and cleared her throat nervously. Diana, however, found herself squashing down a palpable wave of jealousy. But she managed to put on a friendly smile.

"From what I hear, women all over go for tall, dark, and brooding," Diana said. "That includes many of our female colleagues."

"Well…" Kate coughed again. "Glad to know I'm not alone." She met Diana's eyes and cocked her head curiously, as if struck by a thought. But she shook it away. "I'm not sure if I'm telling you what you wanted to hear."

"Honestly, I'm not sure what it is that I want to hear."

"It didn't happen the way you guys said it did, did it?" Diana quirked a brow, imploring her to elaborate. "His resignation from the League. It wasn't as simple as you guys made us believe."

"Why do you say that?"

"Batman practically has _antisocial_ tattooed on that chin of his. But I suspect even a guy like that would keep in touch with his superhero colleagues. Certainly to a better extent than would be indicated by you asking these questions about him."

She's smart, Diana thought.

"Something happened that made him leave. Cut contact and sever ties. But whatever it was, it's fixed now"

She's very smart, Diana amended.

"The official statement as released by the Justice League is that Batman resigned in order to better fulfill his duties in Gotham."

Diana's lip quirked ever so slightly. An acknowledgement of Kate's cleverness. Kate nodded politely, appeased by the "official" answer

"Those other rumors aren't true either, are they?"

"Which rumors?"

Kate smiled. "The ones pairing you and Superman"

Oh, she's very, very smart, Diana finally concluded. She made no bones about sidestepping the question. "I should be going. I have another appointment to see to. And I'm certain you have far better uses of your time than gossiping with me."

"Not hardly."

Diana smiled. Her interest in Batman aside, she liked this woman. "Good day, Miss Spencer."

Kate stood and accepted the hand Diana offered. "Um, just one more question, if I may?"

"Of course."

Kate cleared her throat. "Can I have your autograph?"

* * *

Bruce nervously studied his appearance in his bedroom mirror. "Maybe this is a bad idea. Do you think I should call her and cancel?"

"That depends, sir. Would you ever like me to cook you a hot meal again?"

Bruce cringed. Man, Alfred played hardball. "What if this is a mistake, Alfred?"

Alfred tilted his own chin back, indicating Bruce should do the same. As he helped the younger man with his tie, he said, "And given your abominable history with the fairer sex, that consideration is not only possible, but in fact quite likely. And given the Princess' relations with the Amazon tribe, it's also highly likely they will exact some terrible vengeance upon you as recourse."

Bruce stared. "I remember a day when you were better at pep talks."

Alfred finished the knot and tightened it, perhaps a smidge more than necessary. "And there is also every likelihood you two will hit it off smashingly and produce a litter of brooding, humorless Amazon babies. Even if that proves not to be the case, I should say sir, that some mistakes are actually worth making," he pointedly concluded.

"If you say so, Alfred."

"I do indeed, sir." Alfred sniffed in that authoritarian air of his, proclaiming that his word was official decree. He then continued. "And if I'm not mistaken, it was you who proclaimed, upon return from your...sabbatical... that reaching out to others was a needed action, perhaps even vital one."

Bruce sighed. "I know." He once more checked his appearance. Burgundy button down shirt, black trousers and tie, and black leather jacket. "Are you sure I look okay?"

"Resplendent, sir. Does he not, Miss Cassandra?"

From her spot on the floor, laid out comfortably upon a rug, Cassandra drawled, "Yes, sir." She frowned at the elementary level grammar book before her. Why was she supposed to care about this silly cat that got stuck in a tree?

Bruce lifted his chin, puffed out his chest. He could do this. It was just a lunch date. He was Bruce Wayne. Billionaire industrialist, philanthropist, and international playboy extraordinaire. And he was the damn Batman, to boot.

"I can't do this," he declared. "Alfred, call her and cancel."

"With all due respect, sir, you can cram it. And if you even try to cancel yourself, I shall have Miss Cassandra beat some sense into your thick skull."

Both looked as Cassandra cracked her knuckles. "Don't think...I won't," she managed to say.

Bruce distinctly remembered a day when his voice bore weight, when people listened to what he said with awe, respect, and fear. Those were the good old days.

"I neglected to mention to Hippolyta that I'm having lunch with her daughter."

Alfred's brave facade briefly faltered. A momentary wave of concern rushed over him in regards to his ward. "Oh dear." But quickly realizing this was but a weak play to extricate himself from lunch, he said, "Well, I'm certain my considerable charms can be used to distract the Queen and her guard while you slip away."

Damn. His last ditch effort failed. So he decided to practice his humor. "Failing that, Cassandra could always hit them."

Cassandra perked at the thought.

"No hitting the guests," Alfred admonished.

Cassandra pouted.

Alfred wiped away some invisible dust off Bruce's jacket. Clutched the younger man's shoulders and spoke earnestly. "Remember, sir. There are no expectations here, no obligations. All I ask is you give it an honest effort. I suspect that if you relax, you might actually have some fun, even if only by accident. But if lunch doesn't go well, if time apart has created too much distance, then you never need do it again. You can move forward and rest easier knowing that, for once, you tried."

Bruce nodded, suddenly more relaxed. "And if it does go well?"

"Dear sir. It hasn't been so long that I must refresh you on the birds and the bees, has it?"

Alfred smirked that infuriating smirk of his. Cassandra giggled.

Yeah. Sometimes he really missed the old days.

END PART

* * *

Hmm. The plot thickens. What is this "sabbatical" Alfred speaks of? Will Cassandra pick a fight with Hippolyta's guard? Will she ever discover how the kitty got out of the tree? All this and more in the next installment! And by more I mean Bruce and Diana have their lunch date and Batman's investigation into Celeste's murder continues! Come back for the next chapter, tentatively scheduled for next weekend!

But want more Gotham goodness? Come back on Wednesday for the thrilling first chapter of Batgirl and Robin's hunt for the new Ventriloquist, entitled "Thievin' is for Dummies"!


	11. Thievin' is for Dummies, Part One

Hola, boys and girls. Thanks as always for the wonderful reviews for "Stories Told and Untold". As promised, here's the quasi-spinoff of the series. I'm not sure how many parts there will be, or how frequently I'll return to it. But for now, please enjoy Part One of Cassandra and Stephanie's adventure.

* * *

Thievin' is for Dummies

Starring Batgirl and Robin, the Girl Wonder

By Liam

* * *

PART ONE: YOU'LL NEVER MAKE IT IN VEGAS, SUGAR

Robin raced along the sidewalk, her eyes scanning the rooftops. She dashed between startled pedestrians and leapfrogged a German shepherd on a leash. Reaching for her utility belt, she grabbed her grapple gun and fired it overhead.

The specialized cable reeled in at amazing speed. In a fluid motion that was the product of months of practice, Robin disengaged her grapple at just the precise moment so that she was catapulted high above the rooftop. Performing a perfect forward somersault, she rolled gracefully to her feet. In an instant, Robin produced a pair of batarangs, ready to unfurl them at any threat.

Months of training with the Batman had honed her skills and sharpened her reflexes. Before latching on with the Dark Knight, Stephanie was The Spoiler, and to call her an amateur crime fighter would be an understatement. She was sloppy, undisciplined, and frankly, a pitiful combatant.

But her hard work had paid off. Less than a year later, Stephanie could sneak up on a half dozen armed thugs with stealth and grace, strike with quickness and precision, and have them all disarmed inside two minutes. She wasn't some kid playing superhero anymore. She was Robin, the Girl Wonder, and she was hella good at her job.

In the corner of her eye, she saw a shadow flitter between A/C units. A batarang flew from her hand, not at where the shadow had been, but where it _would_ be. But her target was clever, ducking just beneath the projectile, and racing to the edge of the rooftop before leaping off.

Robin pursued. At the edge of the rooftop, she peered into the distance. Her target hadn't flown or glided away. So that meant the target was on foot. Clutching her cape, she dropped four stories into the alleyway between the buildings, the fabric billowing like a parachute. After her soft, graceful landing, Robin quickly drew two more batarangs. There was no way she was gonna let the target get away again—

Suddenly Robin shuddered under a heavy impact. A solid mass striking her from behind, square between the shoulders. She crumpled to the ground.

And there was Batgirl, hands on her hips, gazing down at her. Sure, that mask might be covering her face, but Stephanie had no doubt she was smirking beneath that leather.

"Mind…your…surroundings," Batgirl said.

Oh yes. That was a smile in her voice. "You rotten, pernicious snozzwanger!" Stephanie yelled.

"Tag…you're it."

Batgirl fired off a grapple and disappeared into the night.

"Oh no you don't!" Stephanie said. She picked herself up, fired off a grapple, and gave pursuit.

* * *

Twenty-five minutes later, the girls sat upon the ledge of the Kane Building, staring out over Gotham's East End. But only after making a pit stop at Burger King. It was kinda funny how the employees working the drive-thru really didn't seem fazed when costumes rolled up to their window.

Stephanie chewed on a chicken sandwich, while Cassandra munched on a triple whopper about the same size as her head. A couple bags of onion rings sat between them. Every so often, the girls would take a slug off the chocolate milkshake they were sharing.

"I'm just sayin'," Stephanie said between bites of onion ring, "that you cheat."

"Do not," Cassandra glared.

"Okay, perhaps cheat is too strong a word. But you were trained by David Cain and Lady Shiva. You're like a kung fu princess. This whole game of tag is like me challenging Bobby Fischer at chess. Of course I'm gonna lose. The deck is stacked against me."

Cassandra grinned. "Not…my fault…you suck."

Stephanie glowered. "I think I liked it better when you couldn't talk at all." She took a bite out of her sandwich. "Man, I have a freakin' chemistry test at eight. I should really get home and review my notes. You're so lucky to be home schooled by Alfred."

"Alfred…puts me…in timeout," Cassandra sulked. Stephanie nearly snorted milkshake out of her nose.

Both girls paused and cocked their heads. Their cowl radios picked up an alert from Gotham Police. Possible armed robbery at a jewelry store on 311 North Benton Avenue.

"That's like four blocks away," Stephanie said. With a wicked grin, she asked, "Ya wanna?"

Cassandra cracked her knuckles. "Let's…do it," she said.

* * *

"Rhino! Hurry up, will ya? Sooner we get outta here, sooner I can get to work on my beauty sleep!"

"Yes sir, Mr. Scarface!"

While Rhino and Mugsy smashed and grabbed jewels from the display cases, Tiny and Earl worked with a blowtorch to cut open the safe in the backroom.

"I tell ya, Sugar, good help is hard to find."

"Yes sir, Mr. Scarface."

"Thank goodness I have you, Sugar. You're a step up from that last dummy I had to carry around."

Peyton Riley smiled down at the wooden dummy cradled in her left arm. "Thank you, Mr. Scarface."

"And you're certainly easier on the eyes, toots."

Tall and beautiful, wearing a shimmering red designer gown and matching suede heels, long blonde hair cascading over the left side of her face. Peyton Riley was a picture of beauty. Save for the scars and glass eye the aforementioned hair covered up.

"We've been here five minutes, Mr. Scarface," she reminded. "Two, three minutes max before a police response."

"Right you are, Sugar," Scarface answered. "Alright, boys! Gather up what ya got! Vamanos!"

Rhino and Mugsy tied up their bags. In the back, Tiny scooped diamonds from the freshly cracked safe into a briefcase and hurried to join the others, while Earl struggled to pack up his acetylene torch.

"Alright, boys!" Scarface exclaimed. "Another couple jobs like this, then I say we beat it to Vegas! Let it ride on some blackjack!"

Suddenly a loud crash sounded in back. They turned to find the acetylene torch rig capsized on the floor and no sign of Earl anywhere.

An instant later, the ridiculously inappropriately named Tiny cried out in pain and dropped his briefcase. A sharpened batarang was embedded in his hand.

"Blackjack, eh?" Robin said, standing proudly in the main entranceway. "That's about the only way you're gonna make money in Vegas, because I don't think you'll be making bank on the Strip with that act."

"Well, looky here," Scarface drawled. "If it ain't the new Bat Brat. Get outta here, kid. Come back and fight crime when you can slip into a training bra."

"Ha-ha. Clever. Tell me, have we reached the bit of our witty repartee where I ask which of you is the bigger dummy?"

Peyton made Scarface snap his fingers. "Boys, pluck the little birdie's feathers."

Tiny, Mugsy, and Rhino dropped their loot and drew their weapons. Robin easily evaded the hail of gunfire by retreating from the building, using the wall as cover. But not before she tossed a handful of pellets behind her.

An instant later an explosion of smoke filled the room. And as the goons and Peyton coughed and hacked, Batgirl struck, emerging from the safe room like a phantom.

Tiny, all 6'5, 260 pounds of him, was the one to bear the brunt of her assault. A sharp right cross snapped his head back. Clutching the bulking man by his shoulders, Batgirl brought her knee crashing into his stomach. The wind knocked out of him, Tiny fell in a quivering heap.

An instant after Batgirl launched her attack, Robin leapt into action. Flipping on the echolocation function on her cowl, she could discern objects amidst the cloud of thick grey smoke. She picked the nearest hulking mass of flesh and threw herself at it.

She launched into a flying dropkick, her heavy boots aimed squarely at Mugsy's right kneecap. She tried not to be too pleased at the satisfying sound of his patella shattering under the blow. With a howl of pain, Mugsy fell to his hands and knees. Which, unfortunately for him, brought his chin within striking distance of her "boomstick", a light, but hard metal alloy baton. So he wouldn't walk or talk again for a while. Stephanie was cool with that.

"Boss!" Rhino shouted. "We gotta get out of here!"

"Ya think, ya stupid mook!" Scarface snapped back. The little figure's head craned up to look at Peyton. "Sugar, save yourself."

"But Mr. Scarface…" Peyton started.

"Get goin', Sugar. I'll handle the chickadees. Just wind me up and go."

"Yes sir, Mr. Scarface." To Rhino she said, "Get ready to move."

Setting the dummy on the ground, Peyton wound up a key on his back. Like a toy soldier, Scarface clattered along the floor, right at Batgirl.

"Batgirl, get down!" Robin shouted. But her friend froze, hesitant. And then Robin remembered: Cassandra didn't know how to flip through her cowl's vision modes. With the smoke, she had no idea what was coming.

Robin aimed her grapple at the wall just over Batgirl's shoulder. She rocketed at her friend, grabbing Cassandra and tackling her behind a counter. An instant later, Scarface exploded, his wooden fabrication splintering like shrapnel.

And when Batgirl and Robin looked up, Peyton and Rhino were gone.

"Fish sticks," Stephanie cursed. "Cass, you okay?"

Cassandra nodded. "You?"

She eyed the unconscious bodies of Mugsy and Tiny. "Fine. Except for the fact I have to tell Bats we settled for the consolation prize."

* * *

Back at their hideout, Rhino tossed a single bag of loot onto a table. "Sorry, Miss Peyton. That's all I could grab in the confusion."

"Don't worry, Rhino. Once the Boss gets back, he'll show us a new plan. Not only will we be rich, but we'll rid Gotham of its Bat infestation."

"How long will it take for the Boss to return?"

Peyton sat at a work bench littered with wood carving tools. Taking a thick block of wood, she said, "Boss will be back in the morning, good as new."

END PART

* * *

So, what do you all think? Reviews make me a happy boy. Anywho, as for "Stories", expect an update this Sunday on October 7. After that, I would expect a week hiatus, with a return on October 21st. I'm scheduled for a week vacation later this month, and I want time to have an extra part or two in reserve. That way I can still update with a new chapter during my vacation, even though I won't be writing during it.


	12. The Date

Man, I'm terribly sorry about the delay between parts. It wasn't planned. Real life popped up. Plus, I'm kinda in the midst of plotting out the next few segments. New ideas popped up, so I had to figure where to incorporate them and yadda yadda. Anywho, here is a new chapter, and hopefully, new ones will pop up fairly regularly. At least for a while.

As always, thank you for all the wonderful reviews and such. I appreciate it greatly.

* * *

Stories Told and Untold

By Liam

* * *

PART TEN: THE DATE

The Sidewalk Café was a bit of a misnomer. It wasn't merely some streetside eatery. More accurately it might be described as a trendy coffee and sandwich shop located in what used to be a warehouse district. Three years ago, the entire waterfront along this area saw a conversion. The old warehouses were gutted and replaced by residential lofts, along with local shops and trendy diners.

A marked improvement, truthfully. Bruce allowed himself little opportunity to savor his good works. But this district, now called Little Wharf, was such an allowance. Ten years ago, this entire street front of warehouses was deep in bed with the mob But Batman had gone to war and won back the area, a block at a time. Today? The worst offense he'd seen committed the past three years was jaywalking.

This restaurant in particular became a favorite of his. In fact, Bruce enjoyed it so much he arranged with the owners the purchase of a permanently reserved table in the name of Wayne Enterprises. Sometimes he allowed his executives usage for business meetings. But on most days he took it for himself. From his current table, an intimate setting for two located upon a second floor balcony, he was afforded a lovely view of Gotham Harbor. In the distance, the distinctive sight of triangle shaped sails marked the presence of private sailboats and yachts. It was quite picturesque.

Bruce grunted. Picturesque scenery. Yet another something he never would have concerned himself with. But then again, perspectives can change, especially under the right…stimulus.

He rubbed his eyes. No, not today. He wouldn't think about it today. An hour could be set aside for this. For something other than his mission. Glancing at his watch, he saw the time. 1:07 PM. Bruce tapped his foot nervously. She was late.

Maybe there was still time for him to run away.

Bruce groaned. No. He couldn't do that. After everything, he couldn't do that to her. Not after the tremendous display of faith she was showing, entrusting him with her Sister's investigation. Besides, Alfred would kill him.

"Bruce?"

The normally ever vigilante Bruce Wayne was so startled that he banged his knee against the underside of the table. Which was good for the public image he unfortunately had to cultivate, but rotten on a joint that was already showing excessive wear and tear.

"Are you okay?" Diana asked in concern.

"Peachy." He pushed aside the pain. Why is it he could take a bullet to the chest as Batman and not even blink, but get him out of costume and a banged knee hurt?

Like a gentleman, he accepted Diana's hand of greeting and brushed his lips against her knuckles. Diana blushed slightly and allowed him to help seat her.

"You look lovely," he earnestly said.

"I thank you. You look quite dapper yourself."

A waitress came by for their order. Diana ordered a roast beef club and a latte, the latter of which was recited in a particularly long and exacting set of instructions. Bruce ordered a Cuban and sweet tea.

"I see you're still a caffeine addict," he said.

Diana sniffed in a faux haughty manner. "I prefer aficionado." The humor was short lived. It was painfully obvious both were incredibly nervous. "So," Diana drawled, "this is a bit unexpected. A lunch date? We've known each other how long?"

"Yes, well, nothing ventured, nothing gained." Did he really say that aloud? Where was some witty dialogue when he needed it?

Diana craned her head over the railing. "I'm a bit surprised to see Alfred didn't drive you. I thought for sure that's the only way you'd keep your appointment."

Zing. At least Diana wasn't holding back.

"I guess given our history, I had that coming."

"You betcha."

Bruce's fingers beat a nervous rhythm upon his thigh. He was a meticulous man. Every action taken was thoroughly analyzed for every possible consequence. He formulated a battle plan just to use the restroom. He actually had a plan coming into this encounter. But what was it Mike Tyson said about plans? Everyone had one until they got hit? Seeing Diana was like a punch in the gut that left him breathless.

"Lovely day, don't you think?" he lamely said. "Although I think there's a chance of rain later…"

"Why, Bruce?" Diana interrupted. "Why the change?"

It was a loaded question. Bruce wasn't quite ready to share in all the details. So he settled for, "Because staying the same was no longer an option."

Diana smiled. "Doesn't it get tiresome being so enigmatic all the time?" she teased.

"Exhausting," Bruce replied. "But I'm fit for my age."

The fell silent, neither sure what to say. Bruce gazed out towards the harbor. Diana studied him. The waitress returned with a sweet tea and a latte.

"Can I get you anything else?" she politely asked.

"A conversation starter, please," Bruce idly answered.

The waitress wanly smiled. Diana laughed.

"Perhaps you can tell me when you grew such a sense of humor?" Diana asked as the waitress slipped away.

"I think if you ask Alfred, he would say I still haven't."

Diana shook her head, half in amusement, half in exasperation. "What's going on, Bruce? You're so different."

Bruce was silent, but not because he aimed to stonewall her. Diana could see the gears turning, figuring out what to say, how to say it. "I had…an epiphany of sorts," he finally settled upon.

"An epiphany?" Diana queried back. "I'm not sure I follow."

"A vision of the future," Bruce vaguely elaborated. His face and voiced soured as he said, "I didn't like it."

Though he only spoke a few words, Diana felt a bit overwhelmed by what he said. "Wow. An epiphany," she repeated. "That sounds terribly philosophical. Especially coming from you."

Bruce chuckled. "I like to think I've grown as a person."

"You had nowhere to go but up," she teased. Bruce frowned at that and she laughed. "I don't suppose I can get you to elaborate further."

Bruce offered a hint of a smile. "Not quite yet. I've still got work to do. People to make amends to. Then I can truly begin to move forward."

"You almost make it sound like you're in a twelve step program," Diana pointed out.

With a quirk of his eyebrows, Bruce said, "Feels like it some days." He looked up at her with deep, dark eyes. In that singular moment, Diana was witness to more emotion than he'd ever displayed in all the years she'd known him. "I suppose it's your day to hear an apology."

"Me?" she questioned. Just when she thought Bruce couldn't throw her for any more loops, he managed yet another. "For what, precisely?"

Bruce's eyes suddenly dipped down to observe his hands in his lap. "For all the years of hurtful comments and careless remarks. For being so callous and reckless with your feelings. For not always treating you with the dignity and respect you deserve."

Diana stared at him. So long and so hard that Bruce actually squirmed under the scrutiny. It was then that the Flash's running joke popped into her mind.

"Seriously, are you a pod person?"

Bruce's brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm not sure there's really an appropriate response to that."

Diana shook her head. "It's okay. You were only doing what you thought you must in order to protect yourself."

"I know. But that doesn't make me less of an idiot." Diana was inclined to agree. With a ghost of a smile, Bruce said, "And a poor gargoyle paid the price for it."

Diana's face lit into a smile. The night he sang to save her life. Granted, she was nearly turned into bacon, but sometimes one had to take the good with the bad. And the thought of him taking such extraordinary measures to ensure her safety kept Diana warm for many nights after.

"Bruce, I feel I need to apologize…" she began. But Bruce waved her off, anticipating her comment.

"You and the Founders made the right call. I deserved expulsion. Was your Amazon blood on fire with emotion? Yes. But that doesn't mean your decision was incorrect. I could have handled the situation better and have already admitted as much."

Diana took a long sip off her latte. Her blue eyes steadily peered over the rim of her cup, fixed upon him. "Just when I think you can't possibly get any more confusing and enigmatic. I honestly don't know who you are."

Bruce smiled and sipped his tea. "Bruce Wayne 2.0," he joked. Diana again shook her head, a touch of frustration seeping into her features. He needed to give her more. He sobered and said, "I'm getting old, Diana."

That got her attention. "Bruce, you're not…"

"I am, Diana," he insisted. "I've been doing this for fifteen years. My hair is turning grey. My knees are nearly shot. Some days I can't even lift my arms above my shoulders." With a deep, pained sigh, he admitted, "I don't have much left in the tank, Diana."

Diana's attention was raptly focused upon him. She hung upon every word, every breath, every facial tic. For the Batman, Bruce Wayne, to be so open, to admit weakness… the pain etched on his face and in his voice cut her to the core.

"With my suit enhancements, I have maybe a year, two at the most. I'm not as strong, or as quick, or as agile. Frankly, Cassandra and Stephanie are doing the bulk of the heavy lifting these days. I just…" Bruce paused, struggling for words. "I just don't have it anymore. And there's still so much work left to be done."

Diana still had no idea what spurred this change, but this was genuine. This was truth. Whatever happened, it gave birth to this new man.

"There's so much happening," he said. "I've got a three-way gang turf war. Thorne, Two-Face, and a new boss named Black Mask are slugging it out in the East End. And I know for a fact Penguin is egging things along by selling weapons to each side. There's a new Ventriloquist running around hitting jewelry stores and armored cars. Plus there are still several of the old foes who pop up now and again. And now there's a group calling themselves the Circus of the Strange running around. On top of all that there's the every day criminal element…"

Diana watched as he slumped a bit in his chair, the weight of the world on his shoulders. This wasn't Batman. This wasn't the strong, vigorous man she'd always known. The savior of Gotham and powerhouse of the Justice League. This was Bruce Wayne. A man who suddenly looked every bit of his forty years.

He fixed his blue eyes upon her. Usually so sharp and intelligent, they were clouded now with fatigue. And a hint of...desperation?

"Can you forgive me?" he asked.

The need in his voice might scare anyone else. But Diana was Amazon. And despite everything, she loved this man. In the pit of her stomach, that old funny feeling struck. Butterflies fluttered whenever he looked at her.

She chuckled. "Bruce, I think one of the immutable truths of our relationship is that I can never stay mad at you." Her lips curled into a teasing smirk. "Even on the occasions you deserve my anger."

Bruce stared, as if processing her words. To her enormous surprise, he practically doubled over in laughter. It was contagious. In moments, Diana was joining him, regardless of the fact other restaurant patrons were staring.

"You know," she chuckled, "Shayera was worried that _I'd_ be the one to get emotional."

Bruce smiled. "I guess I am getting soft in my old age." But then he sobered. "Diana, I will tell my secrets. You, more than most, deserve to hear them. Just...give me time. There's more work to be done first."

In a gesture that surprised them both, Diana reached across the table, palm up. Bruce accepted the offering and placed his hand in hers. "You don't have to do it alone, Bruce."

"Yes. So I'm discovering."

Bruce squeezed her hand once, a show of thanks. When he withdrew, Diana felt a sudden loss. As the waitress returned with their sandwiches, she said, "So, what can you tell me?"

"Are you not tired of my blabbering yet?" he asked.

Diana looked incredulous. She waited until the waitress departed, then said, "Bruce, how long have we known each other? You're finally talking to me as a person, not as The Batman. Do you really think I want you to shut up now?"

His cheeks tinged a shade of red and he smiled bashfully. "It's nice to talk to you like this." Diana's heart skipped a beat at that smile. "Where should I begin?"

Diana considered. Shayera's words rang in her ear. "Well, Robin has boobs now. How'd that happen?"

Bruce erupted into laughter. "Never thought I'd hear you ask such a question. " He took a bite of sandwich and formulated his thoughts. "I was chasing after a wannabe supervillain. A third rate Riddler knockoff named Cluemaster. One night, a girl in a purple cloak found me and told me where to find him. Stephanie. Calling herself Spoiler, she led me to his hideout and helped me capture him."

"I'm surprised you accepted the help," Diana said.

Bruce shrugged. "She had valuable intel. And after I arrested Cluemaster, I told her if I ever caught her playing vigilante again, I'd whoop her and take her home to her father."

"And what happened?"

Bruce paused a moment. "She told me Cluemaster _was _her father." Diana gasped audibly. "Thus why she named herself Spoiler. She meant to spoil his plans." Bruce sipped his tea. "I can't imagine the courage it took to defy her father and fight for justice. It impressed the hell out of me. So I did the only thing I could do."

"You took her in," Diana said.

Bruce snorted. "Hell no. I told her if I caught her playing vigilante again, I'd whoop her and take her home to her mother." Diana laughed and Bruce smiled fondly. "I didn't think I'd ever see her again. But the next night, she showed up on the doorstep of Wayne Manor demanding to speak to Batman."

Diana choked on her latte. Her eyes widened to the size of saucers. "She figured it out?!"

Bruce nodded. "Her fighting skills were abysmal, but her detective skills were strong from the onset. And Alfred…damn him…he brought her down to the Cave while I was preparing for patrol and announced I had a visitor."

Diana couldn't breathe for laughing so hard. "How did she…?" she managed to ask.

"She was at Haly's the night Dick's parents were killed," he explained. "She saw the acrobatics he performed. And then she saw the first Robin in action and recognized the style."

"And she put two and two together," Diana marveled. "If Dick was Robin and was adopted by Bruce Wayne…" She leaned back in her seat, astonished and impressed.

Bruce smiled fondly. "She demanded that I train her to be Robin. Said she'd been reading the papers, knew how I was working solo. Noticed how I wasn't…as careful…as I used to be." Bruce's eyes grew vacant, his mind somewhere in the past. "She deduced something bad had happened to Robin. And then she proclaimed, for my own safety, that she would become Robin in order to look after me."

Diana read those same papers, heard the same reports. Now she was immensely thankful for the presence of Stephanie Brown in Bruce's life.

"She sounds like a very special young woman."

"She is indeed," Bruce agreed, the fondness plain in his voice.

"And Cassandra?" Diana asked. "Where did she come from?"

Bruce smiled that enigmatic smile. "Her story is a bit more complicated. Perhaps we can enjoy lunch and save that tale for another time?"

"Do you promise to actually tell me later?"

"Scout's Honor, Princess."

Diana didn't wish to point out that she doubted he was ever a boy scout. So instead she asked, "Then what shall we discuss instead?"

Bruce once more shyly glanced down at his lap. "Well, since my return to the League, there's actually been a question I've wanted to ask you."

Diana leaned forward, her curiosity piqued. "Which would be?"

"How have you been?"

Diana blinked, the question catching her off guard. But then the butterflies in her stomach began to perform somersaults and she felt a heat rise in her cheeks. In all the years she'd known Bruce…Batman…that was possibly the most amazing thing he'd ever said to her.

"I've been good," Diana said. "My life in Man's World has been truly blessed by the gods."

As nonchalantly as he possibly could, he asked, "So…have you been seeing anyone special?"

Diana paused, her sandwich nearly at her lips. Oh my. And Shayera was worried she'd be the one to get personal.

END PART

* * *

Hmm. Fun times, yes? Anywho, in the next part (which should be out Sunday October 28th, if not sooner), the investigation into Celeste's death continues. And a note on Stephanie: I figure if the DCAU gave Tim Drake the origin story of Jason Todd, there's no reason why Stephanie couldn't get some of Tim's. I figure it dovetails quite nicely given the parallels.

So, boys and girls, how's that for a taste of their date? There's almost certainly more to come later.


	13. Security Concerns

{in Cryptkeeper voice} Hello, boils and ghouls! It's your old pal Liam, bearing an early Halloween tale! Chocked full of treats and, quite possibly, a trick. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews thus far. I appreciate them all. Except for that one guest review to Chapter Eight that simply said "fuck shayera". Yeah, whoever you are, feel free not to review anymore.

Anywho, given that it is Halloween, I thought I would give a mention to one of my favorite titles of DC's New 52. "I, Vampire" might be the single greatest comic ever created in the history of the medium. Okay, maybe that's a stretch, but besides Scott Snyder's work on "Batman", this might be the single best title at DC right now. Seriously, if you've not read it, you have to start.

Now, on with the show!

* * *

Stories Told and Untold

By Liam

* * *

PART ELEVEN: SECURITY CONCERNS

In future incarnations of the Themysciran Embassy, Bruce decided he would have to provide WayneTech encryption software for their computer systems. Oliver Queen was... Well, Bruce thought he was a bit of a jackass, truthfully. A good man, an honorable man, but a jackass nonetheless. And his Q-Tech software, while a step above most of LuthorCorp's own security programs—then again, LutherCorp took a nosedive in quality after Lex's "departure"—it was barely equal to the previous generation of WayneTech goods.

Most everyone thought it was strange how he hadn't complained about spending those first couple months of his reinstatement simply working Watchtower's Monitor Womb. Truth be told, most of his efforts had been spent discretely updating Tower systems and security.

Even after his expulsion from the Justice League, Wayne Enterprises continued to clandestinely fund the majority of their operations. This ranged from everything including food services, civilian payroll, and general supply requisitions. Oliver Queen, once he became the League's only resident billionaire industrialist, had to pick up much of the remaining slack. And Bruce could fairly and objectively say that Oliver did an adequate job doing so.

However, Bruce knew his own efforts went far beyond "adequate".

Without Batman's continued presence on the Tower, the League was suddenly without many of the nifty toys that WayneTech continuously cranked out. Oliver did the best he could to copy the designs and keep the Watchtower running, but again, Q-Tech was behind the curve. And though Bruce could have sent the design specs for weapons and security systems to the Watchtower, he knew that no one aboard the Tower could install and optimize them to the degree he could. And with Luthor himself gone, and the threat of Brainiac and Darkseid seemingly non-existent, he didn't feel a severe enough altruistic streak to help his former colleagues out.

Was that petty of him? Perhaps. And in retrospect, he should have been a better man about it. But fortunately, his egotism hadn't caused any damage, and now he was in the process of retrofitting the Tower.

Though, perhaps, if he had been more altruistic, maybe Celeste wouldn't be dead. When the Themysciran Embassy was established, Diana used Q-Tech computer and security systems. Perhaps with better security...

Batman sighed. What was another death on his conscience?

He felt a presence on the rooftop behind him, but never shifted his gaze away from the balcony across the street. "You're late."

Robin appeared at his side. "Sorry, boss. Had to take a detour. A fella was getting overly friendly with a woman in an alley."

Batman nodded. That was an acceptable reason for tardiness. "How is she?"

"Shaken, but okay."

"And him?"

"I see an orthodontist appointment in his near future."

Batman allowed a smile. "Good girl."

Stephanie brightened and blushed under the praise. She turned away to hide her reaction, thinking it might be unbecoming of a Robin's face to turn the same shade of red as her costume. When she looked back, she found Batman staring intently at her.

"Boss?"

She was stunned into stillness as his fingers found her chin. He tenderly tilted her head back and to the side and scrutinized her left cheek. A piece of shrapnel from her encounter with Ventriloquist caught her there. A paper thin cut, a piece of glass presumably. She hadn't even noticed the injury until she got home. It was, literally, a scratch.

But Batman looked at her as though it were a mortal wound. The gravity and intensity in his gaze, even when hidden behind those white lenses, was palpable.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, boss. I had to drop a glass at home to cover it up around my mom, ya know?" Perhaps that was the wrong thing to say, given Batman's pained reaction. She felt the overwhelming urge to apologize.

"Boss, I'm sorry..."

He quickly removed his fingers from her face and cleared his throat, embarrassed. His eyes returned to the balcony across the way. But his voice still contained a hint of his true emotion.

"Good work last night, Robin."

Stephanie was surprised. "But we didn't get her."

Batman grunted in a manner she took as a amusement. "Thus why I said good work, not great work. But you did stop the robbery. And by capturing her goons, you've provided yourself with potentially valuable intel. I've no doubt you'll learn from your encounter and formulate an appropriate response."

"You mean...?"

"Ventriloquist is your case, Robin. Work it as you see fit." He turned back and met her surprised gaze. "I have faith in you."

Was it possible to die from blushing? She fought her body's reaction and snapped to attention. "I won't let you down, boss."

Batman nodded crisply. He had no doubt of that. "Now, in regards to our primary case?"

"I think Vasily Federov can be safely ruled out as a suspect. He has about twenty thousand witnesses to provide an alibi. The night of Celeste's murder, the Blizzard were in St. Louis for a game. I checked, he was there and he played. Two assists and a questionable high stick penalty in the box score."

"Federov earns over ten million a year in salary and endorsements. A man of those resources could easily hire someone," Batman pointed out.

Robin nodded. "Agreed. Which is why I ran his financials to check for any transfers to shady bank accounts."

"And?"

"No wire transfers, but I did find some odd credit card purchases. Always when the Blizzard are on the road. The Adonis Club in St. Louis, Top Gun in Coast City, the Man of Steel in Metropolis..."

Batman turned to her incredulously. "Those are clubs catering to gay male clientele."

Robin nodded. "Yup." A grin appeared on her face. "Think Supes knows about that last one?"

Batman smirked. "I'll be sure to mention it." He drew his grapple gun and fired it across the street. "Come on. Let's see to our other top suspect."

Robin followed suit and fired her grapple. The two swung across the street and landed delicately on a balcony.

Gates' Tower was a high-end loft complex in the heart of the city. Named after a founding father of Gotham, the tower claimed doctors, lawyers, athletes, and politicians among its notable residents. The one Batman was interested in was Joshua Lawrence, MD.

Encrypted with Q-Tech software, it proved an easy feat to bypass any extra security on Celeste's personal computer. After that, it was a simple matter to access her e-mail account.

Five hundred and sixty-seven e-mails. That's how many exchanges were made in the past four months between Celeste and Joshua Lawrence. Some were simple notes, others long and eloquent letters. It was a nearly complete history of the evolution of their relationship. Beginning in the immediate aftermath of their meeting at a fundraiser for Gotham General's Pediatric Wing, to their first "date" over coffee and book browsing, to intimate notes regarding their first lovemaking. The final e-mail, sent about ten hours before Celeste died, he apologized for missing their lunch date and promised to call that night.

Five hundred and sixty-seven e-mails. And Batman read each and every one.

He knocked on the balcony doors. From inside, he heard a muffled exclamation. And then, a few moments later, the curtains pulled back to reveal the startled face of Joshua Lawrence. He stared long and hard at Batman and Robin, perhaps wondering if they were truly there or a figment of his imagination. Finally he unlocked the doors and opened them wide.

In his mid 30s, Joshua Lawrence was a handsome man. Short cropped brown hair, blue eyes, and wire rim glasses perched upon his nose. Currently, however, a pair of rumpled slacks and wrinkled plaid long sleeve shirt hung loosely over his lean frame. Three days worth of stubble adorned his face and his eyes were bloodshot.

Batman spared at glance to Robin. He couldn't help the swelling of pride he felt. Even behind her mask, he knew she was taking in everything. Every last detail of Joshua's physical appearance and the state of his loft.

She was going to be a wonderful detective.

"Doctor Lawrence," Batman began, "may we come in?"

Joshua stared at them a moment longer, then blinked slowly. He pushed open the door and stood aside. "Sure. What the hell. Come on in."

They watched as Joshua stumbled and weaved over to the leather sofa in the center of the living area. He flopped down, reached out, and grabbed a tumbler of scotch. Taking a pull, he looked to the heroes, suddenly remembering his manners. "I'm sorry. Can I get either of you a drink?"

"No, thank you," Batman replied. Joshua then looked to Robin, who appeared taken aback.

"I'm sixteen," Robin lamely said.

Joshua nodded as if he understood, but frowned as though he didn't. He merely leaned back and with a wave of his hand offered seats. Batman and Robin remained standing.

"I suppose there's only one reason why Batman and Robin would visit me," Joshua stated as he poured a refill.

Batman drew Robin's attention. With a nod towards Joshua, he indicated his desire. This was her questioning to lead. Her eyes widened briefly in shock, but she quickly recovered, cleared her throat, and directed her attention to the suspect.

"Yes, sir," Robin said. "We've become aware of the nature of your relationship with the Themysciran Ambassador."

"I didn't kill her," Joshua flatly stated. Both noted the lack of affect in his voice.

"I wish I could simply take your word for it," Robin said, "but I can't. Can you account for your whereabouts that night?"

Joshua had nothing to say.

"We know you talked to her that night. Phone records indicate an incoming call from your cell phone."

"Yes, I did," Joshua admitted.

Batman waited patiently. The next statement or question she made would prove how far she'd come as an investigator.

Robin was silent for a few moments. Then she said, "We also know you were at the hotel that night, Joshua."

Joshua's head snapped up. For a moment he was completely sober.

Good girl, Batman thought. It was a risk, but a calculated one. While they had no proof that Joshua was there, they did in fact have record of a short phone call made to her room. And obviously Robin reached the same conclusion he did.

"That phone call was to arrange a late night rendezvous," Robin stated with all the confidence in the world.

Joshua's face told the story. Without saying a word, he confirmed Robin's theory.

"You have to believe me, I didn't kill her," Joshua pleaded. "I…I…" he dropped his face to his hands. "I found her like that."

Under her breath, Robin muttered a disgusted, "Prince Charming."

Joshua broke down and began to sputter. "She said I could come over. I was there in forty minutes. I knocked, but she didn't answer. The door was unlocked, so I went in. I found her there, on the bed. She was…she was still warm, but the life was gone."

"And so you left," Robin stated. The disgust was evident in her voice. Batman made a mental note to mention that to her. No matter how distasteful the act, an investigator must remain dispassionate. Though he really couldn't argue with the sentiment.

"I knew how it would look…" Joshua whimpered.

Batman was proud. He saw Robin take a breath and rein in her emotions. "This is our problem," Robin explained. "Celeste died because of organ failure brought on by poisoning. Being a medical doctor, we can't help but wonder if perhaps that poisoning was due to something you gave her."

Joshua bolted upright. "I loved her!"

Robin didn't even blink. "It also doesn't look good," she continued, "when you consider the events of two weeks ago."

Joshua frowned. "I don't understand."

"We've confirmed with hotel and Amazon staff. Two weeks ago, Celeste came down with a brief bout of _flu_." The way she spoke made it clear she didn't believe it to be the flu. "She was knocked out for the better part of two days. Which is incredibly odd, considering the hearty disposition of Amazons. But we're pretty sure that her _flu_ was when she miscarried."

Joshua's jaw went slack, his body limp. In utter disbelief, he asked, "She was pregnant?"

Batman didn't blame Robin for being thrown by his question. He wasn't expecting that response either. But his young partner quickly recovered.

"Were you not ready to be a father, Joshua?" Robin asked. "Did you slip her something to make her miscarry? And did she suspect what you did? Did you have to kill Celeste to cover up your betrayal?"

Joshua didn't even seem to be listening. "She was pregnant?" he asked again. He fell against his couch and sank into the cushions. His hand absently reached for his liquor bottle. He bypassed the glass and brought the bottle to his lips.

Batman and Robin shared a look. Then she said, "Dr. Lawrence, you are a person of interest in this crime. Do not leave Gotham until our investigation is resolved. If you run…well, Gotham PD might not chase you, but our jurisdiction knows no bounds."

If Joshua heard, he didn't acknowledge. He merely sat there, dumbfounded. Batman nodded towards the balcony. He and Robin quietly disappeared into the night.

* * *

Upon arriving at the Batcave, the Dynamic Duo fell into their usual habit. After months of adventuring into the Gotham night together, they were well accustomed to the other's tendencies.

Bruce's habit was to grab a bottled water and granola bar and position himself at the Batcomputer. His top priority was to transcribe a field report while the details were immediate in his mind.

Stephanie made a beeline directly for the showers. She could never wait to get the grit and grime of Gotham off her skin and out of her hair. Once done and dressed in civilian clothes, she would make a cup of coffee and pull out whatever school homework she had available.

By the time Stephanie finished her studies, Bruce would be nearly done transcribing his notes. She would then take the computer and transcribe her report while Bruce took his turn in the shower. When he finished with his shower, and she with her report, they would exit the cave and up to the manor kitchen, where Alfred always kept dinners warming in the oven. As they settled in to eat, only then would they begin to discuss the night's events.

"Assessment?" he asked, adding a dash of pepper to his roast.

Stephanie shoveled a mouthful of potato into her mouth. She didn't even hesitate before saying, "He didn't do it."

"Your reasoning?"

Stephanie shrugged. "Intuition?" Bruce grunted in amusement. She knew that explanation wouldn't suffice. "He's scum for leaving her body like he did, but his reaction is genuine. No way was that grief stricken appearance an act. Everything about his body language said his was telling the truth."

"Do you believe that he didn't know about Celeste's pregnancy?"

She nodded. "It does make sense. We've both read their e-mails. There was absolutely no mention of her pregnancy. My guess is she hadn't told anyone about it yet. I suppose when you live for centuries in a secluded ultra-feminist environment completely devoid of men, admitting that you've had intercourse with a male, much less procreated with one, is a tough topic to vocalize."

"News that important, perhaps she told him in person," he pointed out.

Stephanie shook her head. "This day and age, there would be a cyber trail. E-mails discussing OBGYN's, baby clothes, and bassinets. Text messages suggesting baby names. But there's none of that." She watched Bruce's posture and realized, "You agree with me."

"I don't think he's our killer, no," he agreed. "Our working theory was that he used his skill with medicines and compounds to force Celeste's miscarriage. And then for reasons unknown, two weeks later, he used the same method to commit murder. However, as you stated, he seemed genuinely shocked to learn of her pregnancy. And his grief over her death appears true."

"Do we cross him off our suspect list?"

Bruce shook his head. "No. By his own admission, Dr. Lawrence puts himself in Celeste's room near the approximate time of death. Until he can provide definitive prove of his innocence or until another suspect is uncovered, we must continue to consider the possibility that he is our culprit."

Stephanie accepted that answer, but was obviously still troubled.

"What's on your mind?"

"He loved her," she said, "but he just left her. How could he do that?"

In an instant, Bruce was flooded with memories of the past. The women in his life he'd known. Talia. Selina. Barbara. Diana. Four entirely dissimilar women, with one linking commonality. When they got too close, he pushed them away.

"Love makes us do funny things," he finally said.

Stephanie wasn't comforted. Bruce wished he was better at personal conversation, so he might offer some sympathy. Instead he offered his congratulations on a well executed interview. His compliments did serve to perk her up.

As they continued to eat and talk about Celeste's murder, the Ventriloquist investigation, and other cases, neither noticed a dark figure lurking in the shadows. Artemis, one of Queen Hippolyta's most trusted Amazons and member of her honor guard, watched and listened. And when Bruce and Stephanie finished their meal and disposed of their dishes, Artemis faded into the shadows.

END PART

* * *

Uh oh. What's Artemis doing eavesdropping on this conversation? I'm sure it's gonna lead to something interesting here shortly.

As I mentioned a few postings ago, I'm off on vacation the week of Halloween. I've got a part that's pretty much done, save proofing and such, so I would expect it to be posted on Nov 2nd or 3rd. It's another tangent chapter, veering away from the main storyline. Batman visits Harley again in Arkham, except this time, the circumstances aren't quite as pleasant. So I hope you enjoy it. Also, part two of "The Adventures of Batgirl and Robin" should be appearing soon. And possibly a chapter devoted to a flashback to Themyscira. So lots of stuff in the works! Hope you enjoy! And please, gimme reviews! I like them better than Trick or Treat candy.


	14. Back to the Asylum

Hello boys and girls. Here's the next part of the story. Though I'm still on vacation, I did promise to upload a new chapter. It's a departure from the main storyline, but I felt compelled to write this out. Please forgive me if it's not quite as proofed and refined as earlier chapters.

As always, if you enjoy, please leave me lots and lots of reviews.

* * *

Stories Told and Untold

By Liam

* * *

PART TWELVE: BACK TO THE ASYLUM

Perhaps trying to renew his personal relationship with Diana amidst a murder investigation was a bit…much. It was terribly distracting to what should have been his one and only priority- the solving of Celeste's murder

So what if Diana had a fairly active dating life? That she and King Faraday had a semi-serious on-again, off-again relationship? _"We each get too wrapped up in work to be steady," she had explained._ Or that she and Vigilante—VIGILANTE!—had dated for nearly a month? _"He's an absolute gentleman and completely charming, but we just weren't right for each other."_ And those rumors _People Magazine_ reported about her dating a star NFL quarterback? _"It was fun while it lasted," she'd said with a whimsical smile._

Bruce leaned back in his chair, his feet propped upon the desk The one good thing about being the CEO of a multi-billion dollar industry and a notoriously air headed playboy? No one thought twice about him skipping an afternoon meeting to catch a nap. Too bad his mind was too restless to sleep.

Vigilante? Really? Bruce sighed. He supposed he couldn't question her taste in men too much. After all, a good portion of the women he'd dated were supervillains.

Of course, Bruce wasn't so emotionally or psychologically stunted that he didn't recognize the true reason why he was…distressed. It wasn't because she dated other men. Bruce was hardly so sanctimonious to care about a woman's dating history. Because, again, his track record was blemished like hell. No, what distressed Bruce was how she had seemingly so easily moved beyond him.

Bruised the ego, quite frankly.

Other than that, their lunch went exceptionally well. He almost forgot how pleasurable a meal with a beautiful, intelligent, charming woman could be. It had been so long since he'd dated anyone that wasn't for the sole purpose of keeping his playboy image in check. And while all of those women were exceptionally beautiful, they tended to lack in the other two areas. Alas, one out of three is a good average in baseball…

Unfortunately, however, they hadn't made firm arrangements to do it again. Expectations low, right? His right hand idly fingered his Justice League communicator. Was it too soon to call and ask her out again? Stupid dating decorum. He was sure he knew proper etiquette at one point.

And there was still the issue of Hippolyta to deal with…

The sound of his office phone startled Bruce from his musings. He blinked at the offending device. Only a handful of people possessed the number to his direct line at Wayne Enterprises. And most of them called for Batman, not Bruce.

He lifted the phone. "Hello?"

"Bruce? It's Jim."

Bruce stiffened. "Jim? What's wrong?"

"It's Harleen."

* * *

He arrived as Batman. Corridor A on the Minimum Security Wing was barricaded by GCPD SWAT and Arkham's own Critical Response Team. Commissioner Gordon and District Attorney Spencer were huddled around the nurses' station, eyes glued to the various security monitors.

"What's happened?" he barked.

Kate nearly jumped out of her skin, so surprised by his arrival. Gordon took a long drag off a cigarette. Undoubtedly one from his "emergency pack". Gordon claimed to have quit smoking a year earlier. If that were true, judging by how often Batman saw him smoke, then his emergency pack should have ran out six months ago.

"Jesus, how do you do that?" Kate shouted. Her own cigarette fell to the floor in her surprise. She claimed to have given up the habit months earlier, too.

Batman ignored her query and turned to Gordon. The commissioner didn't even look back, his eyes fixed to the monitor.

"Harleen had a meeting with Dr. MacGuire and her social worker. It didn't go well."

Batman stared blankly at the back of Gordon's head. He then looked to Kate, hoping for further explanation.

Kate sighed. "Her social worker broke the bad news. Despite the recommendations of you, Bruce Wayne, and me, the judge is severing her parental rights. Her son is eligible for adoption. There's a family in the Robinson Park district interested."

Kate started again. She had never heard Batman swear before.

"What are we looking at?" he asked.

Gordon pointed to a monitor. "Dr. MacGuire thought Harleen had shown enough progress. Thought she would take the bad news in stride. Thus why it was only her, Harleen, and the social worker in there. No security." Gordon grunted. "Won't be making that mistake again."

Batman eyed the monitor. It was the recreation room where only a few days earlier they had played chess. They were actually due for another game that night. An unconscious body lay in the floor, presumably that of the social worker. Dr. Holly MacGuire sat in a chair, trembling and terrified, Behind her, Harleen stood deathly still, an object in hand and pressed against MacGuire's neck.

"What is that?" Batman asked.

"A hypodermic syringe," Gordon said. "Filled with what, we don't know." He indicated an adjacent monitor, where a half dozen SWAT officers lurked by a door. "We've cleared the wing of all staff and patients. SWAT is ready to breach from the hallway, ventilation tubes, and the adjacent courtyard."

"In her condition, she'll kill MacGuire," Batman said.

"I know," Gordon nodded. He finally spared a look to Batman. "That's why I'm gonna let you try talking to her first." He looked up at the rumble of thunder echoing outside. "Sounds like it's really fixing to come down."

Batman nodded. "Doesn't it always?"

He took a few moments to analyze the situation, then leaned close to Kate. He whispered to her, careful to not let Gordon overhear.

"I trust you have your uniform on hand?"

Kate coughed loudly and stared. This was the first overt mention he'd ever made to knowing her secret identity. "I do."

"If this goes bad…it might be up to you to resolve it."

Her eyes widened. "Yes, sir."

Batman lingered a moment, as if he wanted to say more. Instead he merely turned away and disappeared down the hallway, intent on the rec room.

Once he was gone, Gordon turned to Kate and quietly spoke. "Why don't I tell everyone you have an emergency at the DA's office? You can go find a bathroom to, uh, change in."

Kate managed to utter, "Uh…"

Gordon smiled kindly. "I am a detective, you know. Some mysteries," he said, thrusting his chin after Batman, "might elude me, but others are within my grasp. Go. He might need backup."

Kate distinctly remembered a day when she was more eloquent. It was practically a requirement to being a lawyer. "Okie dokie," she said. "I'll just, uh, get changed." She grabbed her briefcase and discretely hurried to a ladies' room. "Damn it to hell, am I that bad at covering my identity?"

* * *

Harleen calmly lifted her head at the knock upon the rec room door. "Who is it?" she called out in a faux cheery manner, her voice laced with her thick Brooklyn accent.

"It's me," was the muffled, but distinct reply.

"Come on in, B-Man! Join the party!"

The door quietly swung open. The Batman loomed large. Behind him, lurking at each shoulder, were SWAT officers bearing machine guns. Red tracer lasers flashed and danced across Harleen's upper torso.

"What are you doing, Harleen?" he asked.

In that bubbly voice she said, "Please, call me Harley! Everyone does!" Then the smile disappeared and her voice dropped to a menacing octave. "Close the door, sugar. You're letting the flies in."

Batman stared a moment with those blank, white eyes. But he slid the door shut behind him.

Harleen didn't move, the syringe needle pressed into the neck of Dr. MacGuire. She merely watched as Batman slowly walked to the slumped body on the floor. With a heavy sigh, he crouched to a knee. He pressed a button on his left gauntlet and the lenses of his cowl turned red. After a moment of studying the body, the lenses returned to white.

"Thank you for not killing her."

Harley shrugged. "The night is still young."

"I heard what happened, Harleen. Please, let's sit down and talk about this."

"What is there to talk about, B-Man? The bitch on the floor said they're taking my baby away from me." For just an instance, her voice cracked with emotion. "They're taking my…my Tim away."

Tim. She'd named her son Tim. The name of his fallen, broken Robin. A gesture meant to deliver a measure of atonement for her terrible sin, she had said when questioned upon it.

"I have demands," she said.

After a pause, Batman replied, "I know what it is you want, Harleen. I won't give it to you."

Harley pursed her lips. "Then it seems we ain't got nothing to talk about."

In a flash, the syringe that had been in MacGuire's neck was flying at his head. Batman ducked to the right. An instant later, a fist came crashing down into his cheek.

Never let it be said that Harley Quinn doesn't pack a mean right hook.

Batman lashed out with his left hand, several small capsules spewing forth. They impacted against Harley's chest, exploding in a cloud of yellow dust.

"Eww! Rotten eggs!" she bellowed. "Low blow, B-Man!"

Batman rolled away, crouching on his knees, buying a moment to regroup. "MacGuire! Go!"

The doctor didn't need to be told twice. She bolted for the door. Soon as it opened, one SWAT officer gathered her in his arms and two others stepped forward, guns at the ready.

Batman drew his grapple and fired, the hook catching at Harley's pant leg. With a sharp tug, he yanked her to the ground, just beneath the flurry of bullets meant for her heart. With a quick move to his utility belt, he produced a couple more pellets and slung them at the feet of the SWAT.

The pellets exploded in a freezing blast, an ice slick instantly appearing on the floor. The officers in front lost their footing and hit the ground. Those behind were momentarily distracted by their fallen comrades.

"Gordon!" Batman screamed. "Call them off!"

The second wave of SWAT officers took a step forward, guns at the ready. But then they paused. Batman knew that Gordon was screaming in their ears. Sure enough, they helped their fallen comrades and began to retreat.

So fixated on them, Batman didn't see the fist flying at him. Harley Quinn really possessed a mean right hook.

She followed up with an equally vicious left before he could reply with a punch to her gut. But even then, Harley rolled to the side, his fist doing little damage.

"You son of a bitch!" she screamed, punctuating each word with a fist. "I trusted you! Put my faith in you! And you failed me!"

"Harleen…" he tried to say. But another shot across the jaw silenced him. Blood poured from a split lip and his nose.

Harley grabbed him by the throat and pulled him to his feet. "I need this! Don't you understand? I need this!" She slung Batman around, upon the very table where they played chess. With his back flat against the table, Harley leapt upon him, straddling him.

"Harleen…" he tried again.

With a growl, she wrapped a fist around each pointed ear of his cowl and violently slammed his head down. "My name is Harley!"

Stars exploded in his eyes. It couldn't be said enough just what a wallop she carried.

"Your name," he gasped, "is Harleen Quinzel." Then, softer, tortured, he whispered, "And you're the best friend I have."

Harley paused in her assault, her eyes wide at his revelation. For a brief moment, it was Harleen that flickered in those blue orbs. And if slamming his skull violently into a table was her being relatively calm, the emotional dam then broke. Her gaze hardened and she began to wildly throw punches.

"Don't say that!" she screamed. "If you were my friend, you'd do this for me!"

Batman tried his best to block the blows. "I am your friend, Harleen. That's why I'll never do it."

"Dammit! Fight me!"

Harley dismounted and again wrenched Batman to his feet. He didn't try to resist, nor made any effort to fight back. This infuriated her further. She dragged him across the room and slung him through the doors opening into the courtyard.

Batman slammed against the concrete patio and rolled. He struggled to his hands and knees and spat a mouthful of blood onto the rain soaked concrete. He took a deep, ragged breath—and then Harley's foot found his gut. With a sharp cry, he flipped to his back. The hard rain fall pelted his face, blurring his vision. But about twenty yards away he saw a red and silver leather clad figure out of the corner of his eye.

"Manhunter! Stand down!"

Manhunter had her power staff raised to her shoulder, like a rifle, the tip aimed at Harley. Her gaze never wavered from Harley, but with a sharp click, the staff retracted.

Batman groaned. Harley stood before him, her blue flannel uniform drenched, blonde soaked pigtails hanging limply over each shoulder. Her eyes were fixed on the concrete, the spot where he coughed up blood, deep red washing away. Her lip quivered. She was on the verge of tears.

"Batman….please…" she whimpered.

"I can't," he coughed. "I won't."

She fell to her knees. "Please…kill me."

With a deep, pained groaned, he rose into a sitting position. "No."

"My son," she cried. "He was my hope. If I could raise him…make him a good person…maybe I could be forgiven." Her pleading eyes locked onto his white lenses. "Maybe _you _would forgive me."

"Harleen…I already have."

Harleen broke down. "No…no!" She knelt forward, burying her face in her hands. A few moments later, the rain stopped. Looking up, she found Batman looming above, his cape swept open like an umbrella.

"Do you trust me?"

Like a broken little girl, she merely nodded.

"Then please…trust me."

Batman knelt beside her and pulled Harleen into his arms, protecting her in the relative warmth and dryness of his cape as she continued to cry.

END PART

* * *

Okay, like I said, it was a deviation from the story. But I rather enjoyed it. I also felt I needed to revisit Harleen. As always, gimme your reviews.


	15. All the World's a Stage

Hello again, boys and girls. Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. After my vacation I suffered a few mind numbing days of depression. Long story, involves a girl, as all the best stories usually do. After that, I decided to write on several different chapters, which obviously further slowed this part coming out.

I hope you all enjoy. Things will continue to get weird. More revelations will slowly come to light. And now...on with the show.

* * *

Stories Told and Untold

By Liam

* * *

PART THIRTEEN: ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE

"So neither of your top suspects panned out?" Superman asked.

Once again, Batman found himself before the Justice League Executive Council. All eight members listened as he debriefed them on Celeste's murder investigation.

"Vasily Federov's alibi is airtight. And his financial records indicate no suspicious behavior," Batman blandly intoned.

Superman's eyes drifted down to a file. "And this Joshua Lawrence? Her boyfriend?"

"His actions as explained to us, while morally repugnant, would clear him of the murder."

"And you believe him?" Green Arrow asked. "A girl dies, prime suspect is usually the significant other. Maybe he's confessing to a lesser sin to avoid being caught for the greater one."

"Possibly," Batman allowed. "I think it's clear that he isn't quite the good man Celeste believed him to be. But judging by his physical response, I think it's unlikely he was complicit in her death."

Diana chewed her fingernails anxiously. The action might have been adorable, if not for what it truly conveyed. She was fearful that her Sister's killer might never be found.

"So where does this leave your investigation?" Superman asked.

Batman turned his head the few millimeters necessary to refocus his attention on Superman. Those white lenses could seemingly bore holes into a man with the same efficiency as the Man of Steel's heat vision.

"I still have an avenue of investigation to consider."

"Which would be…?" Superman wasn't terribly surprised when Batman answered with silence. "Of course. We leave this to the expertise of the World's Greatest Detective."

Batman pointedly ignored the droll, flippant manner of Superman's response.

"Is there anything I or the Birds can do?" Black Canary offered.

Batman started a moment, a reflexive action. Before the word "no" could escape his lips, he reconsidered. "Be on standby. There might be something later I'll need backup on."

The jaws of the Founders dropped. The Batman just accepted an offer of help.

"Is there anything else we need to know?" a bewildered Superman asked.

"I'll keep you apprised on the case," Batman responded in his detached, efficient manner. Then a hint of a smirk played at his lips. "On an unrelated note, there is something I think you might be interested in. There's apparently a club in Metropolis named for you. The Man of Steel."

Superman perked, flattered by the knowledge. "Oh? I didn't know that."

"It's supposed to be all the rage," Batman assured. "You should check it out tonight. Maybe take Wally with you. I know he enjoys a good time."

Before Superman could respond, the Flash threw his arms up, his fingers crooking in a "rock and roll" sign. "Woo-hoo! Par-tay!" Wally called. "C'mon, Supes! Can we go? Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplea se!"

There was something disconcerting about the Dark Knight smirking. Superman knew he should be wary, but he couldn't deny the enthusiasm of his younger colleague.

"Sure," he finally said. "I suppose a night out couldn't hurt. John? Ollie? Care to join us?"

Green Lantern and Green Arrow both agreed. Batman lightly coughed and schooled his features to reflect a normal degree of indifference. Superman returned his focus to the Dark Knight.

"Is there anything else we need to discuss?" he asked.

With a quick shake of his head, Batman said, "Not now. Maybe later."

Superman quirked his head at the odd phrasing. "Very well, then. We'll let you get back to what you need to do."

Batman rose and spun with a flourish. He quickly strode towards the exit, calling out over his shoulder, "Good. I need to pick up the baby." The doors hissed open at his presence. It was only after he departed that anyone realized what he said.

"Did he say baby?" Green Lantern asked.

Everyone turned to Black Canary, their fellow Gotham based hero, hoping she might provide insight. It was a moment before she realized all eyes were upon her. "I'm sorry. Did I miss something?" she sheepishly asked. "I was, um…"

Ollie buried his face in his hands. "Staring at his ass again!" he growled, finishing her statement. "Dammit, Dinah!"

* * *

"For a man who so long prided himself on being a loner," Alfred said, "you certainly do seem intent on creating a hodgepodge family."

Bruce didn't even try to stifle the smile on his face. Gathered in the kitchen of Wayne Manor, he and surrogate father watched as Cassandra and eighteen month old Tim sat at the counter. The young girl he'd come to think of as his adoptive daughter was sharing a bowl of strawberry yogurt with the boy he could now call his foster son.

"Admit it, Alfred. The prospect of little feet once again sounding in the halls has you intrigued."

"Nonsense," the elder gentleman mock huffed. "I was a young man when I tended for you. I'm simply too old to be chasing after toddlers."

The glimmer in his eyes and the humor in his voice told a different story. Alfred was greatly looking forward to just such a happenstance.

The Amazons also occupied the kitchen, currently eating the midday meal Alfred had prepared. The younger three eyed the male child warily. Hippolyta, the only mother of the clan, couldn't help but be enamored of the child, gender notwithstanding. She stroked the young boy's blonde locks and even took the child in her arms and began to feed him the yogurt when he became uncooperative for Cassandra.

"Diana was a fussy eater," she explained. "Sometimes it merely takes the proper touch." Sure enough, Tim ate yogurt from the spoon when offered by Hippolyta. The queen looked to Bruce. "He is a lovely child. To whom does he belong?"

"He's the son of two former enemies. His father was a psychotic clown responsible for the deaths of hundreds. His mother was a respected psychologist who fell under his thrall. He was my arch nemesis and is now dead. His mother is in an insane asylum and is perhaps my best friend," he explained easily. Hippolyta ceased bouncing Tim on her hip and stared at Bruce wide eyed.

Philippus spoke around a mouthful of chicken leg. "You bring the child of your enemy to your home? Do you plan to kill it?"

Bruce didn't even have time to formulate a response. It was Cassandra who fixed an icy glare upon the Amazon and spoke in a frigid tone, "Mind…your tongue…Amazon."

Philippus bristled and rose to her feet. But a single stern glance from her queen put the Amazon back into her chair.

As she sat, Artemis calmly rose to her feet. "My Queen, may I take leave?"

"Of course, Artemis," the Queen answered. Hippolyta curiously looked to her subordinate. "What are your intentions?"

Artemis turned her gaze to Bruce. It was obviously painful to direct her attention and voice to him. "I was hoping the...master of the house…would permit me use of his training facilities."

Bruce considered the idea for a moment. "Of course. I understand that warriors must be allowed to continually hone their skills. My home is open to you all. Please, help yourself, Artemis. I assume you know the way down?"

Artemis bowed slightly, the utmost measure of gratitude she could express to a man. Philippus tentatively stood and asked of her Queen, "Might I take leave to train with Artemis?"

Hippolyta's eyes narrowed slightly. But she nodded crisply, granting the request.

"Should I…accompany them?" Cassandra asked. Even in her raspy tones, the distrust was evident in her voice.

Bruce didn't miss how the two Amazons stiffened ever so slightly at her words. He smiled at the young girl. "No, I think our new friends deserve a measure of solitude. And I think they can be trusted down there. If we can't put faith in the honor of Amazons, who can we?"

Cassandra glared after the two departing Amazons. Hippolyta stroked the toddler's head affectionately.

"He truly is a lovely child."

"He is," Bruce agreed. "I don't suppose you might enjoy helping Cassandra tend to him this afternoon? I have business matters to attend to. A press conference at Wayne Enterprises."

The Queen smiled radiantly. Bruce could see Diana in her expression, the beauty and nearly ethereal glow. "I do not believe that will be a burden, Mister Wayne. It has been so long since I've held a child. I nearly forgot how joyous it is."

Bruce offered his thanks. Turning to Alfred, he said, "Call me after the press conference?"

Alfred nodded dutifully. "Of course, Master Bruce. I will be ready with a full status report. And good luck to you, sir."

Bruce offered a nervous smile. "Thank you. I suspect I'll need all the luck I can get."

* * *

Diana hesitantly poked at the ravioli upon her tray. Maybe she could go down to Wayne Manor for lunch. She did have the excuse of visiting her mother. And Alfred, gentleman that he was, never hesitated to feed her. Why, she just bet that he would prepare a fresh garden salad with some of that raspberry vinaigrette that she loved.

"She's got that look," an amused voice said, interrupting her musings.

Dinah and Shayera turned to their colleague, Zatanna, the former asking, "What look is that?"

"It's an expression I wore during a good portion of my teenage years and even many years beyond. "

Shayera grinned. "It appears to me she's wearing the _'Man, Bruce Wayne is a hottie and the things I would do to him...'_ expression."

Diana rolled her eyes.

"Exactly!" Zatanna exclaimed. "It's the same one Dinah gets whenever Batman is around and she thinks Ollie isn't looking."

"Hey!" Dinah protested. Zatanna merely stuck out her tongue in response.

The three women joined Diana at the table in the Watchtower's commissary. None could bear the suspense any longer. Diana had kept the information to herself for too long. They just had to know…

"How was your date with the Dark Knight?" Shayera prodded. "You didn't return to Watchtower a blubbering, emotional mess, so I consider that a victory."

"You really think that little of me?" Diana asked. "You truly think I'm that pathetic when it comes to him?"

Dinah and Zatanna pointedly looked elsewhere. Only Shayera was brave enough to answer, "Yup."

Diana huffed. "Well, if you must know, we had a lovely time. We spoke about work, Gotham, his new allies. He was remarkably open and frank with me. I still find it difficult to believe this is the same man we once knew. He even…well…"

She trailed off, not sure if she should continue. Her colleagues leaned forward in anticipation, with Shayera asking, "Well, what?"

"He asked if I was seeing anyone."

Dinah and Zatanna squealed like little girls at a slumber party. Shayera's brows shot up in surprise. "He did? Wow. What did you say?"

"Well, I told him who I've dated."

The squeals suddenly ceased. Shayera pitifully shook her head. Dinah and Zatanna stared in open shock. "You did what?" Zatanna asked. "Oh, Di, you shouldn't have done that."

Diana cocked her head in confusion. "Why ever not? Does Bruce not deserve honesty?"

"Oh, Diana," Dinah said. "No man wants to hear about the men who came before him. They simply don't want to know who they're being compared to." She had a sudden, horrible thought. "You didn't tell him about Vigilante, did you?"

"Yes."

Zatanna paled. "Oh, that poor, poor man. He's really going to catch hell."

Dinah agreed. "Batman will have him cleaning out the Watchtower's septic systems for a year."

"This is why I say to run any decisions regarding men by one of us first," Shayera explained. Dinah nodded fervently while Zatanna raised a forkful of ravioli in salutation. "So what did Batsy have to say for himself?"

"He said he was sorry."

Her three companions stopped eating and stared.

"He did what?" Zatanna gaped.

"Batman _apologized _for something?" Dinah asked.

"Shut the front door," Shayera said. "For what, exactly, did he apologize?"

"Um...pretty much everything?"

As if rehearsed, the three women leaned back in their seats, shared looks of astonishment between them, and then uttered simultaneously, "Whoa."

A red streak of light skidded to a stop by their table. The Flash was breathless, which for him was a startling occurrence. "Guys, I mean, ladies, you have GOT to see this."

Shayera rolled her eyes. "Flash, you got Fire to fall for that, but do you take us for suckers?"

The visible area of Flash's face flushed red in embarrassment. "Dang it, we were dating at the time! And that's not what I meant! It's on all the news networks! Batman, I mean, Bruce Wayne is having a press conference!"

"To what?" Zatanna joked. "Deny the results of a paternity test? I warn him about pretending to be a playboy."

"Nononononono!" Flash denied. "It's big. And I mean BIG! You all have to see this!"

A streak of red light marked his lightning speed departure. The four women shared a questioning look before following him to the monitor womb.

* * *

From a conference room upon the third floor, Bruce Wayne stared out the glass edifice down upon the main lobby of Wayne Enterprises. The area had been prepared the night before for this press conference. Nearly two hundred newspaper, television, and magazine reporters sat, eagerly awaiting the announcement he would make.

He chuckled softly. Lois Lane was down amongst the crowd. First row, in fact. Bruce wouldn't allow his friend and former beau to have anything less than the best seat in the house.

But no Clark Kent. All the better. He wasn't quite prepared for that conversation. After all, Bruce had promised no more secrets, and all that.

"If I tried to convince you once more of the sheer insanity of this, would you actually listen this time?"

Bruce smiled at the voice. He glanced up into the glass, spotting the hazy reflection of the person behind him. "Probably not," he admitted. "I'm glad you came."

Dick Grayson stood beside his surrogate father and watched as the crowd below continued to swell. "Are you kidding? This is going to be like a train wreck. How can I possibly look away?"

"I thank you for the vote of confidence," Bruce wryly stated.

"Have I told you how creepy it is that you have a sense of humor now?"

"Once or twice."

Dick sighed. "I just hope you know what you're doing. This will unleash a shitstorm."

"I know."

"Well, at least you've let the League in on your plans. That will make things easier." Dick curiously looked to his adoptive father, who was immensely suspicious in his silence. "Oh, come on! You haven't told the League?"

"It slipped my mind."

Dick groaned. "Oh, this is going to be _perfect_. I swear, ever since you returned from your…_sabbatical_…I've…"

Bruce turned as Dick faltered in his words. "Yes?" he prompted.

Dick tried to school his features into a stern look. But he couldn't stop a grin from overtaking his face. Shaking his head, he said, "I've started to like you more."

Bruce chuckled and clapped his son's shoulder. "Come on. Let's go play nice for the cameras."

* * *

It was a slow day on Watchtower. But nearly every hero and civilian attache aboard was present in the monitor womb, watching the central video display. In Gotham City, in the lobby of Wayne Enterprises, CEO Bruce Wayne was speaking. And the caption at the bottom of the screen read: _"Bruce Wayne and the Batman?"_

_"This city...this great city of ours," Bruce Wayne spoke, "is known throughout the world. For some, as a beacon of industry and innovation. For others, as a haven of high society, of fashion, of entertainment. Others yet for our world class athletics." _

The man on screen paused in his speech. In that moment, Diana happened to notice Dick Grayson looming over Bruce's shoulder.

_"But for all," Bruce said, "in the corner of their mind, is the darkness that Gotham is known for. For generations, that has meant organized crime. And for the past fifteen years, it has also meant these so-called supervillains. Freeze, Riddler, Two-Face…Joker."_

"_But as most know, beyond the efforts of Gotham PD, whom I consider the finest police force in the world, Gotham has had a silent guardian. The Batman."_

The core members of the group shared silent glances. Superman, Wonder Woman, Flash, and Black Canary. Where was this going?

"_He hasn't been alone, however. Gotham has many shadow guardians, their names known to us all. Robin, Nightwing, Batgirl, the Black Canary and Huntress. And now even the Manhunter."_

"What? I get no props?" Zatanna muttered.

"_What is also known is that the Batman's reach extends far beyond the borders of Gotham. To the brave men, women, and even aliens and androids who comprise the Justice League. This city, this planet, owes a great deal to these fine individuals who safeguard us from menaces here on earth and beyond the stars."_

They watched as Bruce took a deep, bracing breath. "What is he up to?" Superman murmured.

"_There are no words to describe the enormous amount of pride I hold at being able to finally speak to you all today. To inform you what exactly has gone on these past fifteen years."_

"Holy Crap he's gonna admit to being Batman," Zatanna said. Heads all about the room whipped around to gape at her.

"_Fifteen years ago, a man came to me. A man with a vision. A man with purpose. A dream to rid Gotham of the cancer eating away at its very soul. The man who would become the Batman."_

Over the television, the murmurs of the crowd could be heard. "Or maybe he isn't," Zatanna revised.

"_Since that day…I have funded the Batman's operations."_

The murmurs exploded into gasps and exclamations of shock. And not just at Wayne Enterprises, but within the monitor womb.

"_I consider it my honor, my privilege, my sacred duty to provide the backing of Batman and his allies. And when he came to me over seven years ago, asking for funding to provide the Justice League a base of operations, I was only too happy to provide."_

"Holy. Shit," Shayera murmured.

As the scores of reporters at Wayne Enterprises were whipped into a frenzy, Bruce came to life, speaking in impassioned tones.

"_I was eight years old when I lost my parents. And in that moment, huddled on the dark, dirty street of a decaying and dying Gotham, I made a solemn vow. That one day I would provide the means to save the city I love so dearly. To ensure that no little boy, nor little girl, nor husband or wife, should ever lose someone they love to violence."_

"_So today, with the express permission and cooperation of the Batman himself, I am proud to introduce his, or rather our, latest and grandest endeavor."_

Bruce stepped aside, giving the camera a clear view of a presentation board shrouded in a white sheet. With a nod to his surrogate son, Dick removed the sheet in a flourish. There, emblazoned on the board, the black bat symbol. And etched inside were the words "Batman, Incorporated".

"_To adapt the mantra of a colleague of the Batman's, _Let those who worship evil's might, beware our power and our light!_ I send out a call to arms! Any hero who vows to fight for justice, for truth, you have an ally in Batman, Incorporated! From the Birds of Prey here in Gotham, to the Knight and Squire in London, Mr. Unknown in Tokyo, and El Guacho in Buenos Aires. The support and resources of the Batman and Wayne Enterprises are at your disposal."_

"_And to the Justice League, our global guardians, on this day I make yet another solemn vow. So long as our guardians are on the side of the angels, they will have a friend in Wayne Enterprises."_

With that statement, Bruce bid the hordes of reporters thanks for their time and left the podium, Dick Grayson hot on his heels.

The monitor womb was silent for several long moments which may well have stretched into minutes. It was finally Flash who spoke, hesitantly, and asked, "Did that actually just happen? I mean, in reality, not in my head? Because sometimes I hear things that no one else hears..."

"No, you heard right," Shayera said. "Bruce Wayne just formed an international army of Batmen and admitted to being the benefactor of the Justice League. How the...damn..."

Superman was silent, his jaw squarely set. It was good he was Kryptonian, otherwise he might grind his teeth to dust.

"Dinah, did you know about this? Zatanna?" he asked, his eyes never leaving the television. Gotham City news anchor Summer Gleason was providing a post-conference analysis.

Dinah and Zatanna both loudly expressed their denials. Clark turned a steely gaze to Diana. "Did you?"

Diana startled. "Of course not! It was only a lunch date! He told me nothing!"

Clark nodded, accepting her answer. But then he understood what she said. "Wait, you went on a date with Bruce?"

She blushed and coughed lightly. "Maybe a little."

Her friend gritted his teeth and shook his head. He leaned in close, speaking into her ear. "Next time you see him, please convey to him how urgently he and I need to talk."

With that, the Man of Steel stormed away. His fellow heroes remained behind in an awkward silence. Until, once again, Flash broke it.

"Well, at least I didn't imagine that news conference. That's a load off my mind."

Shayera groaned and lowered her head. Raising a finger, she pressed it to his lips, silencing him.

* * *

In the safety of his office, Bruce collapsed wearily into his plush leather chair. Dick perched on the corner of his desk, an amused expression on his face.

"Time to batten down the hatches," he said. "We're gonna get hit with a media storm."

"An unavoidable consequence," was Bruce's reply. "I'm only doing what's necessary."

"Well, I just hope you're ready for the ass kicking Superman is gonna hand you next time he sees you."

Bruce grunted in acknowledgement. No, that wouldn't be a pretty meeting.

Dick reached into his pocket when his cell phone chirped. A text message. "Alfred sent a video file to your e-mail. Says you'll be interested in it."

Bruce booted up his computer and checked his e-mail. He played the file Alfred sent, video surveillance from the Batcave. Artemis and Philippus, searching his central workstation. Finding the file of information regarding Joshua Lawrence that he purposely left there.

"So, was this part of your plan, too?" Dick asked, his eyes also trained on the screen.

"No, it wasn't. This is a...hiccup. A distraction, albeit not an unexpected one. I knew there existed a possibility of a confrontation with the Amazons. Luckily for me, Artemis isn't nearly as stealthy as she thinks she is."

"And unluckily for her, you happen to be freakishly observant."

"Thank you, Dick," he smirked. "I knew she overheard Stephanie and I talking. Better I create a circumstance I can control in order to contain her. Or them."

"Uh huh. Control. Two trained Amazon warriors." Dick clapped his father on the shoulder. "Lemme know how that works out for you."

Bruce rewound the video and began to watch it again. As Dick moved to leave, he paused at the door, looking back to his father. "I assume you'll give me a heads up whenever it's time to do our thing?"

"Of course," Bruce absently responded, still focused on the video. "Not like I can do it without you." He looked up at his son. "Thank you, Dick."

Dick flashed his high wattage grin. "No problem-o. Good luck with your girl troubles."

He left, leaving Bruce alone with his video and his thoughts. And the thought most prevalent in his mind?

"Tonight is going to be...interesting."

END PART

* * *

What's the other avenue of investigation? Seriously, what is up with this sabbatical we keep hearing about? And what's this "thing" Dick and Bruce refer to? Hang tight as we continue to move ever closer to the answers.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. As always, please, I very much appreciate reviews. I plan to post a new part sometime in the middle of this upcoming week, a smaller part designed to tease and titilate. Then, after that, the Amazon poo will hit the fan.


	16. An Interlude Fight the Future

As always, thank you for the reviews. The last chapter saw an explosion of responses and I greatly appreciate it. Here's a little teaser to whet your appetite. And hey! Maybe this snippet will be the one that gets my 100th story follower. Yay!

* * *

Stories Told and Untold

By Liam

* * *

INTERLUDE: FIGHT THE FUTURE

_"You know, the first time I met you was the day you died."_

_Bruce's eyes widened at the revelation. He carefully watched the figure that stood upon the roof's ledge, watching the city. His symbol, the image of a bat, adorning her chest in blood red. She spoke softly, but with clarity and conviction._

_"The doctors hadn't expected you to live so long. You'd suffered another heart attack. But you held on for two months, until I was born. And the day mom was released from the hospital, we came to the Manor to see you._

_"Dad took me into the master bedroom where you were - for at that point you were completely bedridden - and placed me in your arms. He expected you to make some pithy comment the way you usually would. But father says you didn't speak. For a whole hour, you laid in bed with me cradled in your arms, completely silent. Dad says I must have understood, for I didn't utter a noise. It was only at the end of that hour before you spoke, and then only two words."_

_She turned to him, white lensed eyes meeting his. For a moment, he wondered at the emotion hidden beneath the mask. Was this how others viewed him?_

_"You said _I'm sorry_." _

_The intensity of her gaze beneath those white lenses was intense, burning. It took all of Bruce's immense immense willpower not to look away._

_"Dad didn't understand. Not that day. I don't think he did for a long while. But I know he finally figured it out. Long before I ever did."_

_"Figured what out?" he felt himself ask._

_"I think...I think you knew. Or suspected, at least. Like a mystic who reads tea leaves. I think that when you looked into my eyes that day, you saw the future. Gotham's future. My future. I think you understood what was going to happen. And you feared for what I might have to become." She fell silent for several long moments, then said, "You died an hour later."_

_Bruce shivered. He felt like someone walked over his grave._

_In a swift motion, his companion lifted a hand to her cowl and removed it in an easy motion. She was so young. Still a teenager. Her pixie cut jet black hair hung limp and listless. Her sharp blue eyes reflected an age far beyond her physical appearance and bore the weight of the world._

_"Tell me," she said. "What future do you see when you look into my eyes now?"_

* * *

In the library of Wayne Manor, Bruce laid in the floor with young Tim. The little boy played with a toy firetruck and stuffed rabbit. And Bruce simply...watched him.

He truly was a handsome little boy. With wild, dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He looked so much like his mother. Not that he really had any idea what his father looked like...before his accident.

What would this child be? Certainly he would be brilliant. Harleen was an intelligent, gifted woman. And his father...well, for everything else, he did display a certain variety of genius.

Would the genius prevail? Or would the insanity?

"Tim."

The little boy looked up at his name. Bruce searched his eyes for the answer.

"What is your future?" he asked.

Tim blew a raspberry and held out his rabbit. Bruce took the toy and smiled, using it to tickle the boy beneath his chin, eliciting a wail of laughter.

Cassandra quietly entered the room. "Batman...they've left...the grounds." Bruce nodded in acknowledgement. Cassandra shifted anxiously. "I should...come with you."

Bruce rose to his feet with a soft groan, his joints popping. "No. Stephanie needs you tonight."

"But Batman..." Cassandra protested.

Bruce shushed her and held her shoulders reassuringly. "Would you like to take Tim to bed before your patrol?"

Cassandra could read body language. She knew evasion when she saw it. But he was Batman and she would obey. "Yes," she said. And so Cassandra lifted the little boy into her arms and moved to leave. She paused at the doorway, looking back to her mentor. "Good luck."

Bruce nodded. He knew he was going to need it.

END INTERLUDE

* * *

Come on, folks. Things are clearing up a bit now, aren't they? Next time: One Hell of a Fight.


	17. Something to Prove

Hello, boys and girls. Thank you for the continued support of this story. I am officially at 175 reviews, 100 follows, and 50 favorites. That is awesome. Thanks to all of you who contributed to those numbers.

Sorry for the delay. I wasn't quite sure how to proceed with this chapter. On top of that, I had an illness knock me out for a few days. And then I got distracted making notes on some original writings, then I got caught up in a book…yadda yadda. To be perfectly honest, my writing drive waned. But not to fear, I feel it creeping back up again, so expect further updates at reasonable intervals.

* * *

Stories Told and Untold

By Liam

* * *

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: SOMETHING TO PROVE

Batman had no problem admitting that this wouldn't make his list of Greatest Ideas Ever. However, he couldn't deny the sheer entertainment value of watching three Amazon warriors try to navigate their way through his city.

They made no attempts to conceal their identities, brazenly walking the streets in their armor. Then again, perhaps they simply didn't know to shed their Amazon appearance for something more incognito. Arrogance or ignorance aside,, the trio only received a few strange glances from civilians. Gothamites were far too inoculated to the bizarre to be terribly put out or concerned with a trio of supermodels in ancient warrior garb.

It was somewhere around the corner of Snyder and Capullo that one helpful civilian pointed out that one of the yellow steel carriages, a taxi, would take them directly to their destination if they knew the address. Batman, of course, had made that information available, so the Amazons were able to relay it. And the taxi driver must have taken their departure from the cab as payment enough, because he didn't seem too upset when they didn't pay their fare. Three sharp swords spoke louder than money, it seemed.

Batman swung upon a rooftop opposite Gates Tower and watched as the Amazons entered the building. There were no words to accurately describe how bad an idea this was. Not all Amazons were blessed as Diana was, but even the average Amazon – if there was such a thing – still possessed Class B metahuman strength and ability. And he was about to pick a fight with three of them.

Batman fired a grapple at Gates Tower and swung over. Time to go to work.

* * *

The lock to the entrance of Joshua Lawrence's apartment clicked and the door swung open. The night time desk worker, an unfortunate soul forced to unlock Joshua's door, was promptly knocked out when his usefulness expired.

The Amazons stalked the loft, quietly, efficiently. They scoured the main living area, then marched down the hallway and busted open the bedroom and bathroom doors. It took less than a minute to determine that Joshua Lawrence was nowhere to be found.

"Where is that murderous swine?" Artemis demanded.

"Perhaps the man who showed us here deceived us," Philippus suggested.

"Does the Queen approve of our being here?" Alkyone timidly asked.

"Be still, Alkyone," Artemis barked. "We are members of the Royal Guard of Themyscira. We are tasked with the preservation of our Queen and our Homeland. This man murdered our sister. He must suffer the consequences."

In that instance, the lights went out. A booming, disembodied voice echoed.

"_Perhaps you failed to notice the signage at the airport when you landed. This is Gotham City. This is MY home. And in my home, my rules are to be expressly obeyed. By attempting to kill this man, you have broken my most sacred rule."_

Instinctively, the Amazons formed a circle, their backs to each other, swords drawn and ready. "The man who lives here is not about!" Artemis cried. "And another man hides in the shadows like a demon! Or a coward!"

A sinister chuckle sounded.

"_You have brought two allies to commit the act of a coward, Artemis. And I have brought Shadows, my greatest ally, to stop you. And teach you a lesson."_

"A lesson?!" Philippus scoffed. "One man who cloaks himself in darkness protects another man who murdered our Sister! We knew already the travesty of Man and Man's World."

"_A closed mind…such a tragic thing."_

"And you are a coward!" Artemis repeated. "Cowering in the dark!"

"_What's wrong, Artemis? Are you afraid of the dark? Are you afraid of me?"_

"We are Amazon!" Artemis bellowed. "We fear no man, you swine. We can render you asunder, in the dark or the light."

_"Very good, then. You do not fear me. So please, allow this swine his darkness, as he takes you Amazons down, one by one."_

Philippus scoffed. "Stupid man. You think you can defeat Amazons? We shall bring your corpse back to our Princess and she can see how pitiful her object of desire truly is."

_"So be it, Amazon."_

A great black shadow descended upon them and engulfed Alkyone. With a sharp scream, the youngest Amazon was hauled up and away into the darkness. All Artemis and Philippus saw of their companion were her flailing legs as she disappeared into nothingness. And then they heard a sharp crack, like a lightning strike, followed by what sounded like Alkyone's death throes.

Then there was silence. Unnerving, haunting silence. Until the Batman spoke once more.

_"Are you afraid yet?"_

"You fiend!" Artemis screamed. "You killed our Sister!"

_"I did no such thing. Alkyone lives. She will remember this lesson and she will learn by it."_

The Amazons startled as Alkyone's body fell from the darkness, landing with a sharp thud on the kitchen's hardwood floor. Metal prongs were embedded in her flesh, black wires connected to them. The wires crackled with residual electricity and Alkyone's unconscious body twitched in pain.

Philippus knelt by her fallen comrade. Artemis screamed into the darkness.

"Where is the vile creature who murdered our Sister? Why do you hide him?"

"_Joshua Lawrence did not kill your Sister. He committed a deplorable act, abandoning Celeste as he did, but his guilty mind will provide sufficient punishment for that. He is safe, drowning his sorrows in Scotch, beyond the reach of your blade."_

"I demand his head!" Artemis bellowed.

"_Pity. You have yet to learn the lesson."_

A sharp sound cut through the air. A bola sliced through the darkness, wrapping around Artemis' torso. The Amazon fumbled and stumbled, collapsing to the floor like a felled tree.

A second bola flew forth, aimed at Philippus. She barely angled her blade upwards in time, deflecting the projectile from its intended path. With a sharp cry of surprise, she dropped her sword and staggered to her feet. Just in time to hear and then see another cable zip by her head, impacting and imbedding into the kitchen cabinets behind her.

She turned back just in time to see the Batman launching at her like a demon from the darkness, using his grapple gun as a zipline. Moving with such speed and force, the Batman caught her with his free arm, propelling them both, until the small of the Amazon's back slammed into the island counter. She screamed as the granite broke against her spine.

Her head snapped back as Batman rocked her with an uppercut, his electrified brass knuckles impacting just beneath her chin. He followed up with a flurry of body punches, vicious lefts and rights. He took a modicum of pleasure in feeling her ribs break beneath his fists.

Philippus howled in pain and flailed with a right hook. Batman easily ducked the blow and grabbed her arm, twisted, and flipped the Amazon onto her stomach, her arm wrenched awkwardly in an arm bar.

No cause to be gentle now. Otherwise she wouldn't learn the lesson. Placing his foot behind her shoulder, he stepped down hard and twisted, wrenching her arm out of the shoulder socket. Philippus screamed like a banshee, but even that was cut short as Batman slammed his fist against her temple, knocking her unconscious.

Two down, Batman slowly stepped towards Artemis, who was still struggling mightily against her bonds. Her eyes burned in hatred as Batman crouched beside her, his hand retrieving a small acetylene torch from his utility belt.

"This is my city," he said. "I will not abide murder in any form. The man you seek, I cleared him of Celeste's death. And when I do find the party responsible, justice will be administered, not vengeance. Am I understood?"

Artemis spat at his feet. "May you rot in Tartarus, swine!"

Batman coldly stared back. "Very well, then." He flipped on the torch and cut away the metal threads of the bolas, releasing Artemis from her bonds.

Artemis lashed out, but Batman drew back, expecting the attack and thus avoiding the blow. The Amazon rose to her feet, sword at the ready.

"Man, you will pay for your actions this day," Artemis promised. "No more darkness. No hiding in shadows. Just a fair fight. Or as fair as a fight between an Amazon and a mortal man can be."

Batman hardly paid her any mind. He turned to his left gauntlet, the keyboard linked to his suit's computer circuitry.

"Artemis, I will be honest with you.," Batman began. "I'm old. I'm not the warrior I once was. Can I beat you in a fair fight? Absolutely. I'm far better trained in hand to hand techniques and all Amazons seem to share the same deficiencies in their skill set. Only to be expected when you practice the same techniques for millennia. Stagnation does not precipitate innovation."

Artemis bristled at his words. Her eyes caught his fingers tapping at his gauntlet. "What magic are you attempting, demon? Your pitiful incantations will not help you."

Batman continued on as if she hadn't spoken. "Like I said, I can beat you. I'm still good enough to. But it will be a tough fight and I will certainly regret it come morning. So, unfortunately for you, I elect not to fight fair." With that, he flipped shut the protective panel over his keyboard.

"What did you do?" Artemis snarled.

"I activated the audio dampeners in my cowl. They will cancel out any noises that are of certain decibels, pitches, or frequencies." Batman sighed. "If it makes you feel better, it's a woman who's about to beat you. I'm just the one who'll knock you out."

With that, a piercing wail erupted. Windows cracked, pictures frames shattered, and Artemis clutched her ears in agony. Her knees quivered and shook. Batman took a few steps forward, his knuckles crackling with electricity, and landed a sharp right cross to the jaw. Artemis went out like a light.

The wail cut out and Batman shut off his dampeners. As he stood above Artemis' body, Black Canary emerged from the shadows. She cleared her throat.

"This would have been much simpler if you'd allowed me to give a Canary Cry at the onset."

"I needed to make a point," Batman simply stated.

"Which is?"

"My city, my rules."

Black Canary grinned. "I think you just wanted to pound on some Amazons."

Batman stood up straight, an overly stoic expression on his face. "I deny that." But then, a moment later, he said, "Have you any idea how much an Amazon eats? And I have four of them at my home." He shook his head. "Good thing I'm a billionaire."

"Heh. I do eat lunch with Diana often," Black Canary joked. She turned serious. "This wasn't just you laying down the rules, Batman."

Batman pulled a hypospray syringe from his utility belt. He pressed the head to the arm of each Amazon, delivering a dose of sedative to keep them unconscious until he returned them to Wayne Manor. "No?"

"This was about proving something to yourself. That you still have what it takes. Which is odd, because I don't think anyone doubts your combat ability. But do you know what confuses me?"

"What's that, Dinah?"

"Why you take out the first two on your own, but ask for help on the last."

Batman nodded sagely. "You're right. This was about proving something to myself. That I can ask for help when needed."

Dinah stared. "Has anyone told you it's really creepy when you act like a normal, rational person?"

"Nightwing. Every time I see him."

"Well, you're gonna need all the help you can get with Superman. He's angry, you know."

"So I imagine."

"Rightly so, Bruce. You should have informed us of your intent. By admitting to funding the League, you sparked a potential public relations storm."

"I know."

"More importantly...does this mean the Birds are in line for some Wayne Enterprises funding? Because I've had my eye on a new motorcycle..."

"I don't think Ollie would like me buying you equipment. He's troubled enough by how you check me out when you think I'm not looking."

Dinah blushed a bright crimson. "So, uh, need any help taking the Amazons back to the manor?" Under her breath she muttered, "Damn detective doesn't miss anything."

END PART

* * *

I'm not sure about this part. I'd like to know what you all think of it. And again, I'm terribly sorry about the delay. I'll try to get back to more regular updates.

Note of interest? I originally had a more elaborate fight scene between Artemis and Batman in mind. But then I said "To hell with it" and took the _Raiders of the Lost Ark_ route. Why? Because I decided I didn't want to write an elaborate fight and I thought this way was funnier. Come on, folks, Batman's an old man now.

Oh, and as always, please review. It makes me ever so happy.


	18. Honey, I'm Home!

I was hoping my writing pace would quicken again. Unfortunately it hasn't. But I'm still plugging along. So anybody who's worried this might turn into an abandoned fic, ease your fears. I enjoy the story I'm telling and have every intention of seeing it through.

As always, thank you to all the lovely people who read, review, and favorite this story and its author. Your support is so appreciated. Hope you all have had a Happy Holiday season and a safe, prosperous New Year!

* * *

Stories Told and Untold

By Liam

* * *

PART FIFTEEN: HONEY, I'M HOME

"What is the meaning of this?" Hippolyta shouted.

Dinah Lance backed away from the infuriated Amazon Queen. She had helped Batman deposit the slowly reawakening forms of her Honor Guard upon the cold stone ground of the Batcave. She was not prepared to deal with angry royalty.

"Uh, should I stay?" she asked.

"No, Dinah," Batman said. "Thank you for your assistance."

"Right-o," she said, not hesitating to beat a hasty retreat towards his teleporter. "I'll see you later." She hazarded a glance back at a fuming Hippolyta. "If you survive." Dinah rushed to the teleporter platform and hit the preset control for the Watchtower. Her last thought before her body was broken down to molecules was _How did he get a giant dinosaur down here?_

If Batman was concerned about an enraged Amazon, he didn't show it. Then again, he had just faced down three Amazons. And he was reasonably certain Hippolyta wouldn't damage him. Not with her daughter in attendance.

Both had been roused from bed. Hippolyta looked immaculate, as one would expect royalty to appear. With her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, a white robe wrapped around her body and clasped over a shoulder with a golden clip, leaving the other shoulder bare.

Diana, however, looked like a woman pulled from bed by an emergency. Her raven tresses mussed and disheveled. She wore a pair of red plaid flannel sleeping pants. Mismatched teal and hot pink socks poked out of a pair of Daffy Duck slippers. And to complete the ensemble, an old Gotham Knights baseball t-shirt. A few flecks of dried saliva coated the left corner of her mouth, indicating she drooled in her sleep.

He idly wondered why he found that so alluring.

"I said, what is this meaning of this?"

Bruce removed his cowl, revealing a tired face. He unhooked his utility belt and began to remove his gauntlets. He sat in his chair at the Batcomputer.

"Your Honor Guard set out to kill a man I cleared of Celeste's murder. I took exception to this."

The three Amazons in question were haphazardly leaned up against the Batmobile, just where he and Dinah placed them. Artemis let out a groan, indicating her return to consciousness.

Hippolyta continued to fume. Diana merely gazed at her Sisters with sleepy eyes. "Well, I'm glad you didn't hurt them too badly," she yawned.

Hippolyta's eyes flashed a brilliant blue. The effect was striking, dangerous, and frankly, a bit sexy. It was eerily reminiscent of Diana.

"There are no words to express my anger…" she stated.

Bruce raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Your Highness, this is my city. And I will not tolerate such blatant disregard for its laws…"

"Nor should you."

"…so if you have issue with how I dealt with…" Bruce blinked, her words sinking it. "Pardon?"

"I fully understand and accept that the rules of Gotham are often dissimilar to those of Themyscira. As the champion of this city, I know your loyalty and duty is to uphold the laws of your people. I find no fault in your actions this day."

Bruce blinked. He was sure the surprise at not being the target of her wrath was etched upon his face. "You don't?"

Apparently Diana couldn't believe it either. "You don't?"

"I do not," Hippolyta reiterated. "Tonight you proved yourself a worthy champion by confronting a numerically and physically superior opponent, all in the name of defending your values and laws. I commend you, Batman…Bruce."

"Thank you," Bruce said, after a moment's hesitation.

Artemis staggered to her feet. "My Queen," she slurred, the sedative still in her system, "this…man…is protecting the fiend you slew our Sister."

Hippolyta approached, a cold fire burning in her eyes. "I am no advocate of Man or Man's World. But my daughter shows faith in this particular example, and frankly, thus far, I have not seen any reason not to follow suit. What's more, you will only Speak. When. Spoken. To."

Artemis bowed her head in contrition. "My Queen."

"My Honor Guard," Hippolyta snarled, "is meant to serve me. To follow MY directives. I issued no directive to kill a man."

Philippus recovered her senses and stood beside Artemis. "My Queen, this Batman protects a murderer!"

"And that, Philippus, is for I and the Batman to discuss. Until then, each of you is confined to quarters until I render a judgment on appropriate punishment."

"But My Queen," Artemis protested, "you cannot be without your guard."

Without looking from Artemis, Hippolyta spoke, "My daughter, do you believe me to be safe in this home?"

"Undoubtedly, Mother," Diana said, with an air of authority a touch incongruent with her state of dress.

"In this matter, I will trust the word of my daughter," Hippolyta directed to her Honor Guard. "And in this matter, you should trust mine. Confine yourself to quarters immediately. For I would hate to render a rash judgment."

Artemis opened her mouth as if to protest, but thought wiser of it. She bowed in acquiescence. "As My Queen commands." She and Philippus assisted Alkyone to her feet. The youngest Amazon was still heavily under the thrall of sedatives.

"I see wildflowers dancing before my eyes," Alkyone murmured in astonishment. "But I cannot pick them!"

"Shut up, Alkyone!" Artemis ordered. The two eldest Amazons helped carry their younger Sister to the stairs, all while Alkyone lazily reached out to pick flowers.

As the Honor Guard disappeared, Hippolyta turned to Bruce. "We shall speak now of this." Her tone afforded no argument.

"Do you require me, Mother?" Diana asked.

"No, my sweet. I apologize for waking you. Will you join me for breakfast in the morning?"

"Of course, Mother, I would be delighted." With that, she spun on her feet, her slippers squeaking against the stone. "Now, if you do not mind, Bruce, teleporting me back to the Watchtower."

"As you wish, Princess." Diana took position on the teleportation platform and Bruce queued the Watchtower's coordinates. With a slight smirk, he said, "Love the shirt."

Diana peered down at her Gotham Knights shirt and gave a haughty sniff. "I thank you, sir."

"You look ridiculous with mismatched socks, though."

Diana's eyes widened indignantly. "Oh, you can kiss my—"

The rest of her comment was cut off when the teleporter activated and disassembled her body. She'd no doubt kick his ass for that. Or try to.

Hippolyta gazed at him curiously. "Pertaining to such matters of business, I know not whether to refer to you as Bruce or Batman."

"Bruce will suffice, My Queen."

"Very well then, Bruce. I feel compelled to begin by saying I had no knowledge of their actions. I certainly did not order a man's murder."

"Of that I am certain, My Queen."

She studied him carefully. "Ah. You wished to prove yourself in battle against them. You wished them to view you as a warrior of equal standing."

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

"I congratulate you, Bruce. You are as good as you claimed."

"Yes, My Queen, I am."

Hippolyta allowed a hint of a smile. "I take it their accusations are untrue? That this man in question did not slay our Sister?"

"Were he the culprit, I can assure you that he would currently be in police confinement."

Hippolyta accepted his word without question. "So where does this leave us?"

"I do have a theory, My Queen," Bruce carefully admitted. "But I do not think you'll like what I say."

Hippolyta considered this. "My daughter speaks highly of your investigative skills. She claims your instincts to be highly refined and rarely wrong."

"Your daughter flatters me."

"Does she speak truth?"

"Yes. I am exceptional at what I do."

Hippolyta nodded. "Then I shall entrust you to continue your investigation as you see fit. And if I may be of assistance, please, do not hesitate to inquire for it."

"I thank you kindly, My Queen."

"Now, I will allow you to freshen yourself. If you would please join me in the kitchen afterwards. I believe we have further matters to discuss."

"Have we?"

"Indeed," Hippolyta said. "I shall inquire how fared your lunch with my daughter the other afternoon."

Bruce stared in wide eyed horror. Hippolyta stoically gazed back, her face a mask of royal serenity. He returned to his seat before the Batcomputer and collapsed into it, suddenly worn and a bit frightened. "Alfred?" he asked.

"Secrets are not kept long from a Queen, Bruce," Hippolyta assured. "And your servant respects my station too greatly not to divulge when pressed for information."

In truth, Hippolyta had been exploring the Wayne Library when Alfred approached. Unprompted, he explained that his charge had asked her daughter on a "lunch date". He then assured her that Bruce would be a proper, respectful gentleman. Or else.

Hippolyta had shuddered when Alfred said "Or else." It was her hope then that Bruce did conduct himself as a proper, respectful gentleman. And if he didn't, Hippolyta hoped she found him first. She would at least offer a quick, relatively painless death. She wasn't too sure that Alfred would.

Bruce sighed. "And here I thought I paid him enough to keep my secrets."

"Why ever should you wish to keep secrets anyway?" Hippolyta asked. "Meddlesome things. I find it's much easier to bring things into the light than to keep them stowed in the dark."

"It is difficult to fight one's nature," Bruce answered.

"And all too easy to succumb to it, eh Bruce?" Hippolyta countered.

Bruce grunted in acknowledgement. "Do you not wish to warn or threaten me against dating your daughter?"

Hippolyta spun away and began to walk to the stairs. It was only then she allowed the smile she'd been repressing to emerge. "I will allow you to tend to your business matters first. Just because I plan to detail how precariously your life hangs, there is no reason why it cannot be conducted civilly over dessert. I've no knowledge of this Mississippi or why I should eat its mud in pie form, but Alfred assures me it is delectable. Do not keep me waiting long, sir."

With that, the Queen of the Amazons disappeared.

"That is a scary woman," Bruce decided after a few long moments of introspection.

And so he hurriedly typed up his after-action report, showered, and dressed. He really didn't want to discover the repercussions of keeping a Queen waiting.

* * *

Zatanna lounged at the Watchtower's central command station, her bare feet propped upon the computer, a Chelsea Cain novel in hand, and a cup of steaming lemon tea nearby.

It'd been a quiet night. Most heroes and personnel were either asleep or offsite. The monitors also indicated a general peace about the world.

An hour or so earlier had been exciting, however. Diana had come rushing through, clad in her pajamas, demanding to be teleported to the Batcave transport node.

"Wow," Zatanna had joked. "We've already progressed from lunch dates to late night booty calls. When the urge hits, huh Princess?"

Diana blew a raspberry in decidedly un-Princess like fashion in response.

Shortly thereafter, Dinah teleported up to the station. "Your ex-boyfriend is insane," she declared. "Hot, but insane."

Zatanna calmly sipped her tea. "You'll have to specify which one. That comment describes so many of them."

"Bruce," Dinah declared.

"We never actually dated, but point taken."

"And seriously, how did he get a damn dinosaur down there?"

A few pages later, Zatanna looked up when the teleportation alert sounded. Diana emerged on the platform in mid-sentence, declaring "—ass!" She looked around, noting her surroundings, and began to fume. "Oh, that…that…jerkface!"

"Ah. Of whom do you speak?" Zatanna rhetorically questioned.

"He's a mean jerkface!" Diana declared. "He teleported me just as I was about to cuss him!"

"Hmm. Sometimes I agree with Flash. Why do all we silly girls swoon over him?"

"Beats the hell out of me."

Diana had gotten quite good at speaking like an American, Zatanna decided, although her insults still needed a bit of refinement. Jerkface? Really? She pledged to discuss the issue with Shayera and perhaps create a learning manual. Insults for Amazons. A surefire bestseller. In the meantime, she resumed reading her book.

Over an hour later, the teleportation alert sounded again. Zatanna glanced at the signal display curiously. "Hmm," she said. "He usually doesn't pop in at this time of night." An instant later, a figure appeared on the teleportation platform. "Hey Bats. What are you…oh."

Zatanna gaped in astonishment. It wasn't Batman stepping off the platform, but Bruce Wayne. No mask, no hidden identity. Just the world's most famous billionaire playboy wearing nothing but black sweatpants, black t-shirt, and an old pair of Adidas sneakers.

"I was never here," he intoned in a decidedly Batman voice.

"Yup," Zatanna said, taking a sip of tea. No sooner than he made his way into the main corridor, out of sight, Zatanna pulled up a new window on her central monitor. "Computer, Watchtower biometric display. JL-002."

On the console before her, a schematic readout of the Watchtower appeared. And a red blip, indicating the exact coordinates of Bruce Wayne aboard the ship. Her eyes widened when she saw where the blip stopped.

"Holy Houdini."

In a frantic rush, she accessed a private communications channel. A moment later, a sleepy voice answered.

"_The Earth better be exploding or you're gonna get a mace up your ass."_

"Bruce Wayne is aboard the Watchtower," Zatanna said.

_A yawn sounded. "So? Granted, a year ago that would have been big news…"_

"No, Shayera, you don't understand. Bruce Wayne is aboard. Not Batman."

_There was silence for a moment, then, "The hell you say. Where?"_

Zatanna stared at the motionless blip. "Main dormitory corridor. Right outside room 003. "

_There was silence again, as Shayera processed this. Finally, she said, "Dude."_

"I know, right? What do you think he's doing?"

_"Hopefully trying to remember if he brought Bat-protection. Hold the fort. I'm coming down." There was some rustling, then a loud smack. "Dammit, John! You're on my wing! Get off!" The communicator then cut out._

Zatanna pressed a few buttons, calling up the security footage from the hallway in question. She could see, in the distance, Bruce standing before Diana's door. He was leant forward, arms splayed, palms against the doorframe, his eyes angled down at his feet.

"What are you doing, Bruce?" she wondered.

* * *

_What are you doing, Bruce? _he wondered. There was no reason to do this. Not now, not ever, really.

The truth, once told, couldn't be made secret again. And once this truth was spoken... He couldn't be sure of the consequences. Diana would have an obligation. The rules he'd violated...

Everything he'd worked so hard to rebuild could be wiped out by this decision. And though he'd promised Diana the truth, he didn't know if he could justify following through. Everything else he'd been working towards, that was necessity. Diana was a luxury. One he'd done without for so long and could continue to do without. Yes, depriving her of the truth might very well mean losing her again. This time forever. But with everything else that stood to be gained, how could he justify being selfish by trying to get the girl, too?

His finger pressed her buzzer. He stared at the digit in astonishment. _Damn, traitorous thing, _he cursed. _Did it not realize his brain was still thinking?_

The door slid open. Diana stood there, looking worn and disheveled and absolutely beautiful. Bruce couldn't find any words. Diana, however, could.

"What? You here to make fun of my slippers, too?"

Bruce stared blankly, his mind fumbling for a response. Diana waited, with surprising patience given this was the second time her sleep had been interrupted, and leaned against the doorframe with an eyebrow crooked in curiosity.

He kissed her. He couldn't help it. He simply stepped forward, took Diana's face in his hands, and kissed her. _Brain, you're every bit the traitor that finger is, _he decided an instant before realizing that Diana was kissing him back.

What seemed like the sweetest eternity later, the kiss broke. Diana gazed at him, panting, her lips swollen and parted. "Bruce...what...?"

"I needed to do that now," he heard himself say.

"What? I don't understand..."

"Diana," Bruce said, "I'm going to tell you the truth. And when I'm done, you may not want to kiss me again."

END PART

* * *

Oh my. Certainly it can't be that bad? Can it? Oh, the drama. Stay tuned for the next entralling installment of _As The Watchtower Turns_! And review my story while you're at it? That makes me happy.


	19. Thievin' is for Dummies, Part Two

Hello again, boys and girls. This is part two of Batgirl and Robin's adventure. I know you're all eager to see Bruce and Diana's talk, and my posting this instead might seem like a cheap move. However, I assure you all, "The Talk" is complete and simply undergoing editing at this moment. It will be posted in two days. The reason I chose to post an installment of "Batgirl and Robin" is because I wanted one more "Holy crap" moment before the big talk. I think this part delivers that moment.

As always, thanks for all the reviews. You guys are amazing. There were so many wonderful reviews for the last part. And since I'm selfish, if you read this story and enjoy it, would you kindly favorite it? I wanna get to triple digits on favorites!

* * *

Thievin' is for Dummies

Starring Batgirl and Robin, the Girl Wonder

By Liam

* * *

PART TWO: WE ARE FAMILY

Stephanie's interrogation of Ventriloquist's captured goons proved initially fruitful. After some…encouragement…they gave up the location of Peyton Riley's base. It was an abandoned woodworking and furniture store north of Park Row. She and Cassandra investigated, but unsurprisingly found it empty. Peyton and her remaining goon were long gone.

There had been one clue, however. An abandoned notepad. No visible writing, but Stephanie detected depressions in the page. Using one of the oldest tricks in a detective's arsenal, she used a pencil to gently rub graphite over the depressions. She saw a couple addresses, times, and six digit alpha-numeric codes paired with six digit numerical codes.

It was fairly easy to ascertain what had been written down. Each address corresponded with an ATM machine. The times corresponded to an approximate time when an armored car would stop by. And the codes corresponded with the license plate of a particular armored car (the alpha-numeric sequence) and the security code required to open the car in question (the numeric sequence). Stephanie reached the most logical conclusion.

There was a mole at the armored car company.

"If mole…at company…" Cassandra asked, "why rob…jewelry store?"

"Does this chick strike you as logical or balanced?"

"Good point," Cassandra agreed.

Four armored car heists could be attributed to Peyton Riley and her gang. None shared any of the same crew members, so Stephanie felt confident in eliminating drivers as suspects.

After securing the identities of all office personnel, Stephanie went about vetting each of them. It didn't take long to identify Shawn Putnam as her chief suspect.

Recently divorced from a woman described by many as a "royal bitch", Putnam sunk into a profound depression following the split, despite the fact he was probably better off without her. He owed alimony. He had accrued drinking and gambling debts. He was a desperate, lonely man. His psychological profile indicated a susceptibility to strong-willed women. And the promise of money to help alleviate his debt problems might coerce him into cooperation.

Stephanie decided to have a talk with him.

This talk took place after he got off work. As he fumbled by the driver's side door of his car, fumbling for his keys, Shawn had no idea both of his feet were amidst a cleverly laid snare trap. By the time he finally did realize this, he was dangling off the third story ledge of his parking garage, with an amazing view of a ridiculously hard concrete surface below.

Shawn Putnam screamed and wet himself.

"Hi!" Stephanie cheerfully called out over the ledge. "I'm Robin! You're Shawn, right?"

"Aaaaaagggghhhhh!" Shawn answered.

"Oh, good. I hate orchestrating elaborate potential deathtraps for the wrong people."

"Let me go!" Shawn screamed.

"Oh, sweetie, I don't think you've thought that answer out properly."

Shawn thought about it. His eyes widened and he frantically waved his arms. "No! No! Don't let me go!"

"There you go! Better late than never. So tell me about Peyton Riley."

"I don't know who you're...aaaaaaaagggggggggghhhhhhhhh!" He screamed as Stephanie let loose with some slack, plunging him ten feet closer to earth.

"You kinda did yourself a disservice, Shawn. If I'd dropped you before, it'd been a quick death. I drop you now, you're gonna be in traction for a year."

"Okay! Okay! I'll tell you everything I know! Please, just pull me up!"

Stephanie didn't answer for a moment. Shawn's heart sunk into his throat. Gravity is a funny thing.

"Do you promise?" she called in a sing-song voice.

"Yes! Please! Pull me up!"

Stephanie pretended to think on it. "Well…I guess if you promise. Okay, Shawn. I'll pull you up." She 'accidentally' let loose of the rope, dropping him another five feet. His screams could be heard five blocks away. "Whoopsie!" she called. "My bad!"

* * *

Shawn Putnam churned out a wealth of information. He had met Peyton Riley at a nightclub called "Aces and Angels". Between her ventriloquist acts, she also operated as a waitress and blackjack dealer. Shawn lost a lot of money at her table, but he didn't mind too much. She was so sweet and so pretty, it didn't really feel like losing. She listened to him talk about his job, his rotten ex-wife, everything. So when she asked for a favor in return, he didn't hesitate to agree, even though her favor was info regarding armored car routes.

"How'd she get the scars?" Stephanie asked.

"I asked her once," Shawn admitted. His shuddered at the unpleasant memory. "And then I never asked her again." He shrugged. "Every woman is entitled to her secrets." And then, like a perfectly enthralled heartsick sob, he asked, "How did she look when you saw her? She hasn't been by in a while. I know she gets busy, but still…"

Idiot, Stephanie mentally admonished as she gave him over to Detective Renee Montoya. She only hoped that when, or if, she ever fell in love that she wouldn't find herself inclined to such acts of stupidity. No, she decided. She was far too sure of herself to go that gaga over a boy.

* * *

High above the intersection of Moench Boulevard and Dixon Avenue, Robin and Batgirl waited in silence. According to Putnam, this address was the fifth of five he originally gave to Peyton. And at approximately 9:15 pm, an armored car was due to arrive to deposit funds into the machine.

"Feels…wrong," Cassandra said.

Stephanie nodded. She had that feeling, too. But her voice did nothing to expose her anxieties. "We're good, Cass. She's only got one thug with her now. And if we can't take out one bad vaudeville performer and her dummy, we need to reevaluate our career choice."

From west on Moench, an armored car appeared. It turned left, heading northbound on Dixon and pulled to a stop. The driver and passenger exited the vehicle and proceeded to the rear.

"Stephanie," Cassandra alerted.

Coming south down Dixon was an old beige van. The van screeched to a halt before the armored car. The security guards looked up at the sound, then hit the pavement as a hail of gunfire erupted from the van.

"That's our cue!" Stephanie shouted.

Robin leapt from the building, followed an instant later by Batgirl. The girls unfurled their capes, clutching them tightly, electrical current from their gloves turning the capes rigid. Like birds of prey, the girls hovered high above, soaring, until pitching down and dive bombing.

Batgirl landed atop the armored car, dropping smoke pellets for cover. "Get…in van," she ordered the guards. The driver punched in the access code and the men piled into the van, shutting it behind.

Robin landed atop the van and smashed open the driver's side window with her armored gauntlet. Three smoke pellets were tossed inside and promptly exploded.

"Give it up, Peyton! You and your goon…huh?"

To Robin's astonishment, four gunmen stumbled from the van, coughing in fits. None of whom were Peyton or Rhino. Then, from south on Dixon, coming in behind the armored car and Cassandra, another van skidded to a stop. Out stepped Rhino and Peyton, Scarface in hand.

"You dumb broads!" Scarface shouted. "You think you can get over on Scarface? Do I look like a dummy? You think I didn't know that mook Shawn would sing? I know a canary when I see one! Welcome to my trap, birdies!"

Scarface let loose with a miniature Tommy gun, spraying bullets everywhere. Batgirl leapt away, diving for cover.

Robin withdrew her boomstick and went to work on the thugs from her van, attacking those on the driver's side. With a few sharp moves, the men were disarmed and disabled. Batgirl leapt into action, hammering into the men on the passenger side. Soon, they too were out of action.

"Told you!" Cassandra said.

"Yeah yeah!" Stephanie snapped back. "I guess I should have figured she could afford more goons!"

Bullets began to pelt the van. Batgirl leapt over, joining Robin on the other side. Scarface and Peyton steadily approached, his Thompson blasting. Scarface laughed maniacally.

"No dames are gonna get the best of me! Do you know who I am? Rhino! Get that van open and get the cash! I'm gonna clip these chickies' wings!" There was no answer. "Rhino, open your ears, birdbrain!" Still no answer. "Rhino?"

Robin and Batgirl shared a confused look. And then Peyton cried out briefly in pain.

"Heh. A new Ventriloquist, huh? That's…interesting."

It was a deep, smooth voice. The voice of a teenage male growing into a man. Robin and Batgirl chanced a look over the van to see a figure standing over Peyton's unconscious body. Behind them, not far away, Rhino was knocked out, wrapped up in a bola.

The figure wasn't overly tall, not the size of Bruce or even Dick. But he wore what seemed like a blood red tunic, black trousers, and utility straps over his chest. A fully extended bo-staff was in hand, and the young man leaned upon it life a walking stick.

"Dr. Midnite?" Robin questioned.

The man chuckled wryly. "Why is that everyone's first thought?"

"Who are you?" Robin warily asked.

The man stepped forward, retracting his bo staff. "Good question. Haven't firmly settled on a name yet. What do you think? Redwing? Or maybe Red—"

"Robin?" Stephanie asked in astonishment.

Tim Drake considered the name. "Red Robin. You think? It's not too derivative, is it?"

"TIM!" Before he could blink, Tim was being crushed in a bear hug.

"Code names while in costume, _Robin_," he choked out.

Stephanie broke the embrace and leapt back, her face flush with embarrassment. "Oh, yeah, hehe." She giggled like a schoolgirl. "Hiya!"

Tim looked her over. Stephanie almost swore that he was checking her out. "Heh. I think that costume looks better on you that it ever did on me."

Stephanie went from flushing to blushing. "Hee! I mean, thank you." She quickly walked away, intent on securing the prisoners and resolving not to embarrass herself further.

Cassandra stepped forward to greet him. She bowed slightly. "Tim. You…are well?"

Tim smiled, but the sadness was evident. "I'm doing better." He looked around at the piles of unconscious bodies around them "So…how's Gotham?"

"Insane. Things…go boom. Batman…nice tho."

"Heh. Batman's nice? You're right, Gotham is insane."

Cassandra was silent a moment. "How…is mom?"

"A hellacious teacher. But she sends her love."

Cassandra's mask contorted in what might have been a smile. Stephanie reappeared.

"GCPD has a wagon on the way to pick up our friends. I imagine most of the goons are heading to County, while Peyton will be off to Arkham for evaluation." She bashfully lowered her head and nervously fidgeted. "So…Red Robin. Wanna join us for the rest of our patrol?"

Tim thought on it a moment, quite seriously. Then a sly grin crossed his face. "Sure." He patted each girl on the shoulder. "But you two get to be it."

An explosion at their feet caused Cassandra and Stephanie to look away. Two pellets went off, filling the air with thick gray smoke. As the girls coughed, they heard the sound of a grapple gun fire, and Tim's laughter echoing.

"That pernicious snozzwanger!" Stephanie declared. She shot Cassandra a look. "Come on! Let's get him!" She withdrew her own grapple gun and fired in the direction she thought Tim went. In an instant she was gone.

Cassandra lingered a moment, her mask still transfixed in a smile. "Family…together now," she stated with conviction. She fired her own grapple and began pursuit.

END PART

* * *

Yay! Tim is back! But how? Wasn't he irreparably damaged in the DCAU? All will be revealed! Anyway, Tim Drake is my favorite character in comics (despite your best efforts to ruin him, Scott Lobdell), so I had to bring him back in his Red Robin persona, which is not what he's always been called (again, this hateful retort is aimed at you Scotty boy). And while I'm at it, DiDio, Stephanie Brown was so totally a Robin.

Anyway, please read and review. And on Wednesday, revelations galore! Take your wagers on how you think it's gonna play out! The person who leaves a review with the theory that most closely matches my outcome will get a special shoutout!


	20. The Cruelest Dream, Reality

Okay, boys and girls. Here's the big one. Truths revealed and all that. I initially said this would come out tomorrow, but I completed the editing earlier than expected. So please, enjoy, and let me know if the chapter meets expectations.

Yes, I am referencing an _Offspring_ song with the chapter title. And if you didn't know I'm a _Doctor Who _fan before, you'll probably be able to tell after you read.

* * *

Stories Told and Untold

By Liam

* * *

PART SIXTEEN: THE CRUELEST DREAM, REALITY

_His head pounded. His stomach was turning somersaults. He managed to reach a position on his hands and knees before vomiting his dinner upon the Batcave floor._

"_Huh. Looks like clam chowder. I love clam chowder."_

_Bruce turned his head towards the voice. A woman stood watching him. Short cropped black hair, piercing blue eyes, and a hint of Asia in her features. She wore a white blouse, black cargo pants, and a long back trench coat. _

_She couldn't have been much older than seventeen._

"_How..." Bruce gasped, "did you...breach...security?"_

_The girl, as Bruce mentally amended, crouched down so that she was nearly eye level. She smiled the saddest smile he had ever seen. A smile so hauntingly familiar..._

"_I didn't."_

_Bruce frowned and looked around, searching for anything amiss. He was startled to see so much was._

_Much of his museum, his trophies, remained as he remembered. But so much of the equipment...it looked like things taken straight from his dreams. And there, alongside his costume and those of Robin and Batgirl, were costumes he'd never seen before. Sleek, black, and adorned with a blood red insignia._

"_What the hell is this?" he growled, starting to recover his senses._

"_This," the girl explained, "is the Batcave beneath Wayne Manor."_

_Bruce glared, waiting for the punchline. The girl didn't disappoint._

"_Nearly seventy years in your future."_

_Bruce said nothing for the longest time. Merely stared at the girl. He then decided on, "Bullshit."_

"_Not bullshit. Mad science." The girl hoisted a devise that looked like an alien rifle mated with a Star Trek scanner. "This is WayneTech Prototype 14K dash something slash pineapple something spedoinkle. I never caught the proper designation. Board meetings are so, well, boring. I just call it my timey-wimey vortex manipulator thingamabob. Or Bob, for short."_

_The girl stood up and began fiddling with the gadget._

"_It's very schway. All I need is a DNA sample, some temporal/spatial coordinates, and I can literally pluck someone from the time stream and plop him down in front of me! But I like I said, prototype device, so I had to test it before bringing you here. Took three dozens chickens, but I finally got it right!" A faraway looked crossed her face. "So many chickens died as heroes. And by died I mean exploded. Good thing I figured it out. I was tired of eating chicken. Thought I might have to switch to ham." She cocked her head and shrugged at what she perceived to be Bruce's stunned expression. "Waste not, want not," she concluded._

_Bruce knew insanity. He saw it, heard it, even smelled it every time he entered Arkham. He could identify it easily, like it was visible stat such as hair or eye color. But what he found so chilling? This girl wasn't insane. Crazy as hell, perhaps, but not insane. _

_What in the world was going on?_

"_Who the hell are you?" Bruce asked._

_The girl slung her...device...over her shoulder and grimly smiled. "Sorry, I didn't introduce myself, did I? I'm Brynn McGinnis, daughter of Terry McGinnis and Dana Tan. And you, dear sir, are my grandfather."_

_Bruce stared, flabbergasted. "What?"_

"_Oh, and did I mention that I'm Batwoman?"_

* * *

"_Why should I believe you?"_

"_I'm hoping because you think I've an honest face. Which, by force of genetics, is your face, in a sense."_

"_Try again, sweetheart. I don't have kids and sure as hell aren't planning on it."_

_"Yeah...long story. Cadmus. Genetic mumbo-jumbo with an egg and a wahoo and the whatever. I read the report. Kind of. Did I mention that technical stuff bores me?"_

_He watched as the girl, Brynn, stripped away her clothing, down to a tank top and boxers. She buckled into a black costume, slipped on a cowl. At a nearby computer station, she unfurled a usb cable from the hard drive and input it into her gauntlet. Her cowl lenses flashed. An instant later, she unplugged._

_"Say I believe you..."_

_"You do," Brynn easily stated._

_"Do I?"_

_"You do. Even without your cowl telemetry, you're a human lie detector. By now, you've monitored my blink rate and eye movements, analyzed my vocal tones, observed my breathing rate. And when I helped you stand, don't think I didn't notice how you took my wrist to feel my pulse. And besides," she said, tapping her cowl, "my telemetry is online and doing just fine. You believe me."_

_She snapped her utility belt in place. Turned to observe her appearance in a mirror and _tsked_. "Black is slimming, my ass." Turning back to Bruce, she said, "Come on. Let's go say hello to Gotham's superstitious and cowardly lot."_

* * *

_The moment he saw Gotham City his heart broke._

_"Nothing I ever did mattered."_

_Brynn stood quietly beside him on the rooftop of the JointAxis building. A fire raged in the direction of the old Diamond District. Police sirens echoed like a macabre symphony in Otisburg. And the East End was hauntingly quiet, a ghost town, ravaged by time and tragedy. _

_"I wouldn't say that. If you hadn't come along, Gotham would have collapsed into the abyss long before I was ever conceived. Then again, maybe your contributions were like putting a comatose man on life support. The organs keep working, but the soul is gone."_

_"You're not very good at offering comfort."_

_"I'm not trying to comfort you, Bruce." She thrust her chin out, indicating the scene before them. "Gotham is practically a northern suburb of hell. We're in the Fourth Circle and spiraling down. Fast." _

_"Yes. So I see."_

_Brynn harrumphed. "Take that judgmental tone out of your voice, mister."_

_"What?"_

_"You see me. You see this symbol upon my chest. And you're wondering how this all came to be. Why I can't or haven't stopped it." She pointed out to the Gotham wasteland. "Look at it. And look at me. I'm seventeen, Bruce. I risk my life every night, trying to hold this stinking cesspool together." She sniffed, loudly. Bruce realized she was fighting back tears. "I'll consider it a victory if I live long enough to graduate high school."_

_Bruce felt ashamed. "I'm sorry, I don't-"_

_Brynn interrupted. "What the hell am I supposed to do? I'm alone, Bruce. The Justice League is but a distant memory. It died along with my father, your son. There is no Robin, no Batgirl, and no Nightwing. I'm doing my best, dammit!" _

_She was barely holding it together. "I'm trying to stop a belly wound with a few bandages and superglue. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I fight, I can't stop the inevitable. This city is going to die. _I'm_ going to die." _

_For a moment, Bruce didn't see a soldier. He didn't see a superhero. He saw a scared teenage girl. Even beneath the cowl, he could see her lip quiver. Could hear the tears in her voice. _

_"Bruce...I don't want to die."_

_His heart broke again._

_"Why are you telling me this? Why did you bring me here?"_

_"Because I'm going to die, Bruce. Gotham is going to die. And it's your fault."_

* * *

_"I can't know these things, Brynn. You can't tell me."_

_"Why?"_

_Bruce stared incredulously. "Why? My being here tampers with the timeline. Every bit of information you give me, when I go back, it influences my decisions. It plays against the natural order. It violates the laws of the universe. The Justice League-"_

_"Yeah yeah. Justice League Bylaws, the Infinity Protocols. The timeline must be preserved. Non-contemporaneous technologies, persons, or ideas must be isolated from the timestream. Like I said, the sciencey stuff is a bit dry and boring for my tastes."_

_"The last time I encountered time manipulation, the threads piecing together the entire universe threatened to unravel. The results were nearly catastrophic-"_

_"Did you not see Gotham?" Brynn growled. "The results are already catastrophic."_

_Bruce was genuinely sorry. "There's nothing I can do." He turned to walk away._

_Brynn roared in anger. "Don't turn your back on me! You stupid, selfish, son-of-a-bitch! Do you think you're the only person who gets hurt? Who feels pain? What about Tim Drake?"_

_Bruce stopped in his tracks. His entire body tensed in sudden rage. Brynn read his reaction clearly. She didn't care. She pressed the raw nerve._

_"What do you think hurt him worse, Bruce? Being tortured by Joker and Harley Quinn, or being tossed to the curb by you afterwards? What? The little bird couldn't fly anymore, so you kicked him from the nest?"_

_She stood beside him. A part of her relishing the pain she was inflicting._

_"How about Barbara Gordon? That was unceremonious, wasn't it? I wonder how she felt. One minute she's in your bed and the next...?" Brynn whistled. What a doozy that was._

_"And Dick? I mean, you were never Father of the Year material, but at least you were a father. At least you were in his life, watching out for him, protecting him."_

_She leaned closer and whispered into his ear, delivering the final blow. "And what about Alfred? Ever wonder what effect your actions have on him? How old has he gotten since you broke up the family? Do you ever worry about the joy you've taken from his life? Do you ever worry that you've sent him spiraling towards an early grave?"_

_She saw the blow coming. Saw his muscles react. But she did nothing to avoid it. Let him rock her head back. Felt the blood pour from her broken nose. Felt herself hit the ground with a crunch._

_She managed to tilt her head up. Saw him standing there, fuming, blood on his fist. Blood poured down her lips and she grinned. "I take that as a _Yes_," she said._

_Bruce glared. He walked over, stood above her. Brynn extended a hand up. Bruce pulled her upright. _

_"There's nothing I can do," he repeated._

_"You're The Batman. You can do anything you set your mind to."_

_His head bowed. His shoulders slunk in defeat. "Not anymore."_

_Brynn sighed. "Lemme inject a nanite solution to fix my nose. We'll go upstairs and get something to eat."_

* * *

_This was not the Wayne Manor Bruce remembered. This was not a home, it was a mausoleum. White sheets covered the furniture. Layers of dust blanketed the manor likes fields of snow. By the buildup, it'd been a long, cold winter._

_Only the kitchen seemed to be well used, though it certainly wasn't in the stately condition he was accustomed to. Stains and spills matted the surfaces. Dirt and fallen flecks of food were visible on the floor._

_Brynn opened a cabinet and withdrew a can of potato cream soup. "Just like mother used to make. No, seriously, mom was a rotten cook." She opened the can, plopped the contents into a pot and added a bit of water. "Wanna get bowls? I'll throw a salad together."_

_Bruce found himself complying. He set the table as Brynn cut up a cucumber and carrot and added them to a bowl of lettuce and cherry tomatoes. He been watching a few moments before he realized she'd stopped chopping._

"_Please, ask," she said. "I know you have questions."_

_She was good. He'd give her that. "Why aren't you at home with your mom and dad?"_

_Her next slice sounded too loudly against the cutting board. But she took a calming breath and resumed._

"_Dad died three years ago. Alien invasion. He and most of what was left of the League bit it then," she said coolly, dispassionately. "Mom...mom was barely holding it together before his death. It'd been a rough couple years. Dad was getting older, hurt more often. I'd taken up the mantle of Robin. When he died..." She stopped chopping and stared vacantly at sights only she could see. "I visit her twice a week at Arkham."_

"_So it's only you?"_

_Brynn turned slightly to offer that sad smile. With haunted eyes, she said, "Just me now. Last soldier standing."_

_Bruce shook his head. "I don't understand what I can do to help you."_

"_Bruce, I didn't bring you here to help me. Gotham is going to die. And so will I. I'm just...going through the motions, I guess, until we both pass in peace." _

_Bruce frowned. "Then what...?"_

"_I brought you here so that you would understand. I brought you here to help you. More than anyone, the world I live in is the world that you created."_

"_I'm responsible for alien invasions? Gang infestation? Supervillains run amok?" Bruce shouted, suddenly angry. "I dedicated my life to fighting those very things."_

"_Yes," Brynn agreed. "Until suddenly you stopped fighting." Bruce stared, flabbergasted. But then Brynn amended, "Okay, perhaps that's not entirely accurate. You kept fighting. You just stopped doing it the best way and started doing it on your own."_

"_What are you talking about?"_

"_Leaving the Justice League? Disbanding the Bat-family? Did you think those were good decisions? Or did you react like a pissy four-year-old? All emotion, no reason?"_

_Bruce delivered a full-fledged Bat-glare. Brynn didn't back down an inch. "You have no idea what you're talking about."_

"_No? Do you realize how weak the Justice League became without you? Not merely the financial support, but they lost their field general when you walked away. They lost that calculating edge, that bit of nasty that made them so efficient and devastating in battle. And when you retired Batgirl and Robin...you retired the people who would act as Gotham's guardians once you were gone. Grab the dressing from the fridge, would ya?"_

_Bruce blinked, processing the sudden turn in conversation. But he opened up the fridge and grabbed bottles of Ranch and Italian dressing._

_Brynn carried on like she never diverted. "For a man with your ego, you have a serious knack for undervaluing your own importance. In a matter of a few days, you delivered a crippling blow not only to Gotham, but to the global defense network."_

"_But Superman, Wonder Woman..."_

"_Even gods die, Bruce."_

_Bruce fell quiet. They couldn't die. Clark? Diana? Gone?_

_A paper towel was suddenly thrust towards him. Bruce stared curiously at the hand and towel, as if uncomprehending. Then he looked up to Brynn. She smiled that perpetually sad smile. _

_He took the paper towel and wiped away the tears trickling down his cheek. He stared at the wet spots in muted astonishment. _

"_What am I supposed to do?" he asked._

"_First, I'd say find the washroom and cleanup for dinner. Then I say we should have a nice long talk. I'll tell you everything you need to know. And when we're done, I can send you back home. And then I suggest you track down anything remotely resembling an ass and pucker up."_

_Bruce found the washroom, cleaned his hands, and sat down for dinner. They talked deep into the night._

* * *

_The next day they visited Dana Tan at Arkham. _

_The woman's break from reality was tragic and clear. However, her dissociation didn't cause a lack of manners. She kindly thanked Bruce for coming back from the dead to visit her. She then slapped his face and called him a son-of-a-bitch for drawing her husband and daughter into the vigilante life. Bruce accepted her words, then nodded kindly when Dana asked if he wanted to look at her photo album. She, Bruce, and Brynn sat in the dayroom, drinking ginger ale and looking at photos until it was time for Dana to have lunch._

"_You're a miserable, selfish, stupid old man," Dana admonished. "Will you visit again?"_

_Bruce assured her that he would. Dana proceeded to hug him and Brynn. She then went to lunch._

_That night he and Brynn patrolled together. Bruce donned a version of her father's costume. It took a bit to accustom himself with the tech, but once he did, he found patrolling was remarkably similar to his day. Find the bad guy, beat the bad guy, and move on._

_He couldn't help but watch her in action. Tall, graceful, decisive. Her every moment appeared choreographed, rehearsed to perfection. She moved like liquid, without resistance. And she hit like a freight train, her two electrified escrima her weapon of choice. In another life, she would have been revered for her work in the ballet._

_She was truly magnificent, his granddaughter. _

_After the battle, they perched upon a nearby rooftop for observation. They scoured the city, the optics in their cowl magnifying the streets below, their earpieces intercepting all GCPD communications._

_Bruce removed his cowl and turned to his companion. "What will become of you?" Brynn stared curiously through white lensed eyes. "When I go back, if I act on the information you've given me, there's no way to know what changes will occur."_

"_No, there isn't."_

"_You may never exist."_

"_No, I might not."_

"_How can I kill you?" Bruce questioned._

_Brynn paused a moment, debating her answer. "You know, the first time I met you was the day you died..."_

**_Author's Note: Can't remember how this conversation goes? Return to Part 16: Fight the Future._**

* * *

_They were words he'd not said in ages. But he said them to her._

"_I love you."_

_She smiled her sad smile and embraced him, kissing his cheek and whispering into his ear. "And I love you, grandfather."_

_He'd spent weeks in this future dystopia. Working with Brynn, knowing her, understanding her. And eventually, before he knew it and with tremendous ease, he came to love her._

"_You could come with me."_

"_No, grandfather, I couldn't. A little time manipulation is one thing. An outright paradox is quite another." A hint of genuine good humor broke into her smile. "I did manage to retain something from those dry old science reports."_

_Bruce nodded, knowing it was a silly suggestion. "I hope to see you again, Brynn. One last time."_

"_As I hope to be seen by you, grandfather." She slipped a USB drive into his palm. "In case you ever need a reminder of what and whom you are fighting for." She kissed his cheek again. "Be well, grandfather."_

_Bruce stood in place while Brynn retrieved The Device._

"_Unfortunately, this device is funny. I won't be able to return you immediately after I plucked you from the timestream. You've spent nearly a month here, and so you'll be gone nearly a month then."_

"_I understand."_

"_Any last questions or comments?"_

"_Yes, actually. I'm not going to explode like a chicken, am I?"_

"_If you do, I brought rubber shoes and a mop, just in case."_

_It was oddly comforting to discover his brand of dark humor was apparently genetic._

"_Goodbye, grandfather."_

"_Goodbye, granddaughter."_

_With that, he was gone._

* * *

"_Ugh...never eat before time traveling," Bruce groaned as he hacked up a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and potato chips. _

"_Master Bruce! Master Bruce!" Alfred cried, rushing into the Batcave. "My God, boy, where have you been?"_

_Alfred helped Bruce stagger to his feet and rest in the central chair. Bruce patted the older man on the arm and then did the strangest thing. He smiled._

"_Alfred, my friend, I met the most beautiful girl I've ever known. And I loved her more than anyone in my life."_

"_Master Bruce?" Alfred questioned. He pressed a hand to Bruce's forehead, checking for fever._

"_I can't do this anymore," Bruce said. "Not alone. I have to do better for her."_

"_For who, Master Bruce?"_

"_My granddaughter, Alfred."_

_Alfred stared for a moment. "Oh my. Perhaps I should put the kettle on."_

* * *

Diana stared at him, a cup of half empty coffee on the nightstand beside her. She hadn't touched it in half an hour, so when she took a sip, she was astonished to discover it was cold.

She stood, walked over to the counter, and dumped the beverage into the sink. As she took the coffee pot off the burner, intent on a refill, she paused and stared at Bruce again.

"You time traveled."

Bruce nodded. "I did."

"Like the incident that I was supposedly involved in? With the villain Chronos?"

"This technology wasn't quite as...refined...but yes."

Diana refilled her coffee cup and said, "Huh."

Bruce seemed to be expecting more. "That's it?"

"Bruce, it's four in the morning. I've been woken up twice tonight. I'm sorely lacking in caffeine. And you just told me a story about time travel."

"Point taken," he admitted.

She sat back down upon the edge of her bed. Bruce sat but three feet away, in the small, uncomfortable lounge chair in the corner. His large, bulky frame looked immensely ridiculous in such a small chair. She opened her mouth to speak, but words failed her. It took a few minutes of careful thought, and half a cup of coffee, before she knew just what to say.

"That's trippy as hell."

Her vernacular had certainly changed in two years. He suspected Flash's influence. "Pardon?"

"Of course it would take a manipulation of the time-space continuum before the great Batman would have an epiphany."

"This conversation isn't going how I expected," Bruce said.

"This conversation didn't _begin_ as expected," Diana pointed out. "I was expecting the recounting of a near death experience, or a moment of perfect enlightenment during mystical meditation." Her lips pursed as she distastefully added, "Or even that you'd met a woman."

"I did meet a woman."

"Your granddaughter," she repeated. "Seventy years in the future."

"Yes."

Diana shook her head and sipped her coffee. "Trippy."

Bruce lowered his head shamefully. "What I'm doing is wrong. But I couldn't stand idly by anymore. I realized I couldn't be alone. That I need help. Support." He whispered, almost reverently, "I need family."

Diana sipped at her coffee. "Why is what you're doing wrong?"

Bruce frowned, confused. "Diana...I went to the future. I willingly let myself learn what was meant to be and used that information to radically alter the timeline. By our own Justice League accords, I've committed half a dozen major violations and scores of secondary violations. By our treaty with the United Nations, I should spend the rest of my life in solitary confinement at Belle Rev."

Diana thoughtfully considered this. "Eh. The universe owed you one."

Bruce was flabbergasted. "Diana...do you understand how selfish this is of me? I took it upon myself to alter the course of human history."

"How is that any different than what we do any other day? Besides, if there's one thing I've learned in Man's World, it's okay to be a little selfish sometimes."

Bruce chuckled in exasperation. "Diana, I think this goes beyond a little selfish..."

Diana was suddenly looming above him. As he looked up, she pressed a finger to his lips.

"Bruce, the universe owed you. For all you've done, for every sacrifice you've made, for every love you've lost. You had this coming to you. And I couldn't be happier."

"But Diana..."

His protest was interrupted when Diana leaned down and placed her lips upon his. "Bruce, shut up and come to bed."

His reaction was priceless. "Pardon?"

Diana stifled a grin. "I'm tired. You're tired. Knowing us, we're going to argue in circles over this. So if you don't mind, I'd rather do it when well rested."

She extended a hand and smiled upon him, so sweetly and serenely. Bruce took her hand and allowed himself to be helped up.

"I, uh..." he babbled.

Diana laughed. "Don't worry, Bruce. As you can plainly see, I've been broken of Amazonian sleeping traditions. So I think for one night we can contain our unbridled lust for each other."

Bruce allowed a tiny smile. "Heh. Be just like the old days."

"No, please. The sudden break-up of your emotional constipation is another part of your epiphany that I'm deeply enjoying."

"Did you learn those words from Shayera?"

Diana shook her head. "_Cosmo_. Zatanna bought me a subscription last year for my birthday."

She clicked off the lights, plunging the room into darkness. The bed was only twin sized. Odd. Bruce was certain most crew quarters had been retrofitted with full sized beds. Though his mind was pleased to note it would be difficult for her to have male company in her room with such a small bed.

Diana first lay upon it, curling up onto her right side, facing away from the door. Bruce stood there a moment, simply watching.

"You're doing that creepy, quiet, staring thing, aren't you?"

"I guess?"

Diana yawned. "That's sweet. Now lay down before I knock you down."

Bruce dutifully removed his sneakers and climbed upon the bed. In order to maximize bed space, or so he told himself, he too turned onto his right side. The bed was small, cramped, and his rear end was hanging off the side. But he fell asleep breathing the scent of Diana's shampoo.

END PART

* * *

Alright kiddies, that was the big one. Please, if you're ever gonna review a chapter, review this one. Did this answer everything? Of course not. Why would I reveal all in one chapter? But doesn't it explain a lot? I really hope you guys and gals enjoyed this chapter. Please, give me feedback!

Stay tuned! More to come! I have plans for a strange chapter in the near future, a prequel/flashback set on Themyscira! And then the investigation into Celeste's murder will reach a gripping conclusion! Plus, fallout from Bruce and Diana's chat! Finally, the tension between Batman and Superman comes to a head! That's a lot of exclaimation points!


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